The Return of the Normandy
by RCButler
Summary: In honor of ME:A's botched release, I've decided to finally sit down and write a novelization of ME2 and ME3, like I always said I would. Some parts will cover in-game material, others will be entirely new. Comments and critiques are welcome, as I have little experience writing sci-fi. Credit to Bioware for the amazing ME universe.
1. Chapter 1

* _Boom_ *

An explosion, felt more than heard.

* _Boom_ *

Another explosion. Larger and closer.

 _I'm lying down. I'm on a bed? Where am I?_

"-pard! Shepard, wake up!"

 _Shepard. My name. Who's that calling my name? More explosions. Where am I?_

"Wake up Commander!"

 _Commander. I'm Commander John Shepard. Commander of the SSV Normandy SR1. Stealth frigate, joint human-turian design –_

"Shepard, do you hear me? Get out of that bed now – this facility is under attack."

 _Under attack? Under attack... what's the last thing -_

Adrenaline surged through Shepard's veins as memories of the Normandy's destruction poured forth. His eyes snapped open, only to shut again as bright, sterile light stabbed at them.

* _Boom_ *

The explosion quickly echoed to nothing, but now came the staccato report of gunfire. Shepard began to push himself upright, military training already generating a priority list.

Find cover. Find a weapon. Find your team.

"Shepard, your scars aren't healed, but I need you to get moving. This facility is under attack."

 _Scars? What scars?_

As if on cue, Shepard's body lit up with pain in a dozen places. He hadn't felt soreness like this since the end of the Skyllian Blitz, when several days of accumulated injuries and exhaustion had finally overwhelmed the rush of combat. Shepard pressed forward regardless, sitting up and sliding his legs off what he realized was not a bed, but an operating table. With his eyes finally adjusting to the light, Shepard could begin to make out features of the room.

What he saw caused a pit to form in his stomach. Medical devices – a LOT of medical devices – surrounded the table he was attempting to vacate. A robotic surgeon loomed overhead, with a more complex armature than Shepard had ever seen in an Alliance hospital. The lights and windows all seemed to lean in from above – this room was an operating theater, not a recovery ward. Screens along a wall displayed vitals which Shepard could only assume were his.

 _The woman on the intercom said something about scars?_

Shepard eased off the table and quickly ran his hands over his body. His muscles and joints protested, but he could not feel the sharp sting of any recent incisions. He had gotten spaced, right? Shepard tried to remember what Alliance soldiers were taught about vacuum exposure.

 _3-4 minutes in vacuum is survivable, but the lungs and airways can take major damage in a matter of seconds –_

"Shepard, you need to get moving!"

The woman's accented voice broke Shepard from his confusion. He forced himself to set aside his questions and focus on the immediate. Weapon fire. Explosions. A battle was raging nearby. He had no weapon, no armor, and no kinetic barrier. He didn't know where he was, where the enemy was, or what the enemy might be. The only thing Shepard knew was that the woman on the intercom seemed to have an interest in keeping him alive.

"Where should I go?" Shepard hoped that the woman could hear and see him. Names would have to wait for now.

"Head for the door on the far side of the room. Keep your head down, someone is hacking security trying to kill you."

 _A minute awake and someone's already trying to kill me?_

 _Par for the course._

* * *

A few minutes later found Shepard scrounging a kinetic barrier and pistol off an unfortunate worker. As to what the dead man might have worked on, Shepard hadn't a clue. None of the bodies he had encountered had any visible form of identification, and every intact omnitool or terminal had intact biometric locks. The only hint as to the station's affiliation was a sort of stretched hexagon which had been etched into every bulkhead. Shepard felt like he had seen the symbol before, but between stepping over corpses and hiding from security mechs, he hadn't had much time to stop and think.

At the very least, Shepard knew this wasn't an Alliance facility. No Alliance facility would use mechs as security – the machines were viewed as too close to AI for the Council's comfort – and the incident on Luna had discouraged the human military from giving VIs any sort of creative leeway with weapons. Saren's attack on the Citadel had been yet another reminder to the galactic community to be afraid of gun-toting synthetics. However, military hardware companies like Hahne-Kedar made good money selling mechs to private organizations and entities that considered themselves outside of Council jurisdiction. While clumsy, noisy, and tactically inept, mechs had no fear, no moral qualms, and were far cheaper to maintain than living security personnel; the perfect grunts for shady customers.

It all added to Shepard's growing unease. What was Shepard doing in a private facility? Moreover, a private facility which looked more like a research lab than a hospital? The room Shepard had woken up in seemed to be the only room designed to hold a patient. There were no recognizable wards, no sickbays with rows of beds; just a vast array of labs, machines, and cubicles. Even the dead bodies Shepard had come across appeared to be wearing lab or technician uniforms.

Damn. The pistol's heat sink was nearly at capacity. "Miranda, I've found a weapon and a kinetic barrier, but I need thermal clips." The woman on the intercom had shared her name and little else, stubbornly deferring all other questions until Shepard made it to safety.

"Keep moving, Shepard, you should be able to find some further ahead." More dead bodies, no doubt. Sure enough, as Shepard continued down the hall and through a series of doors, he was able to accumulate a few fresh clips from the blood-wreathed corpses slumped against the walls and sprawling on the floor. Only a fraction of the dead carried pistols, and many had been shot in the back. If someone was trying to kill him, as Miranda claimed, then they cared little for collateral damage.

"Shepard, the area ahead has four active mechs in it. I can't redirect them, and it's the only route available."

"Understood." Shepard took up position next to the door and readied his weapon. "Open it." Without a HUD or omnitool, the soldier wouldn't be able to keep track of his shields. He'd have to fight conservatively, or risk taking a slug without armor to absorb some of the kinetic energy. Shepard had taken gunshot wounds before, but always with armor on. He had no desire to learn how being shot in plainclothes would feel.

The door hissed open. When no mechs came barreling through, Shepard began to edge around the corner, slowly increasing the visible arc of the next room. One mech, and then another, came into view, loitering in a slightly depressed section of the floor. Shepard paused for a moment, then stuck his pistol through the doorway and fired two blind shots. As he had hoped, calls of "hostiles detected" soon followed, along with the clack of ceramic feet. The clacking drew closer until Shepard could even detect the mechanical whirr of the mechs' servos.

When the first mech stepped around the corner, Shepard batted its gun to the side with one hand and unloaded four shots into its chest and head with the other. The mech crumpled as Shepard resumed his previous position. The next mech received the same treatment, and the next, but the fourth mech got hung up on the crumpled bodies of its compatriots. "Allied force casualty" the mech droned, firing in bursts at the side of the door Shepard was waiting behind. As soon as the mech's thermal clip overheated, Shepard surged forward, emptied half a clip into the mech and kicked it to the floor for good measure. However, even as the mech fell back, a painful jolt ran up Shepard's leg from where his foot had contacted the mech's body.

"Shepard, the mechs have taser nodes embedded throughout their armor. I would recommend avoiding close contact with them."

Shepard, having just managed to avoid toppling over at the shock, blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. "Yeah, sorry, first time fighting mechs." Annoyed that he'd made such a careless assumption, Shepard limped to cover behind a crate and began to massage feeling back into his leg. Thankfully, no other mechs occupied the room. If there had been, Shepard reflected grimly, they could have shredded him while he reeled from the mech's electrical defenses.

"Shepard, more mechs are closing in on your position. They'll be coming through the doors to your front and left."

Shepard made note of the indicated doors, then checked his cover. It would hold up to the machine pistols these mechs carried. "Alright, I'm ready."

After several more firefights, Shepard lost contact with Miranda. She'd said something about meeting up ahead before static started to disrupt the intercom. From what Shepard had been able to make out, mechs had been closing in on her before the line cut out entirely. It was an unpleasant development – she seemed to be an ally, even if Shepard didn't quite know who she was or worked for. Moreover, without Miranda providing overwatch through the station's systems, Shepard had no idea if he was continuing in the right direction, or if hostiles were waiting behind the next door. He continued despite these reservations, as he had no way of knowing whether Miranda would be able to contact him again. Also, if whoever had hacked the mechs had gained control of station surveillance, Shepard needed to keep moving to avoid being surrounded.

Either serendipity or Miranda's interference had left the majority of doors unlocked as Shepard progressed through more hallways. Here and there would be another office or lab, some perfectly intact, others littered with bullet holes, dead bodies, and destroyed mechs. Shepard listened carefully at each door before opening it, although the wail of sirens and rumble of explosions elsewhere in the station made the exercise nearly pointless. His route seemed to be leading upward, which Shepard hoped was a good sign. Less encouraging was a near run-in with a new, massive variety of mech. One of the hallways Shepard passed through had windows into a parallel walkway where a lumbering robotic behemoth had stomped its way into view, prompting Shepard to dive into cover. He was certain the mech had seen him, but its heavy footfalls quickly faded, and after a brief glance, Shepard hurried to the next door.

The door opened into the largest space Shepard had seen so far, and from the left came the sound of gunfire, followed by a familiar twinge in the air. _Biotics_. That meant someone was alive, and fighting. _Finally!_ Shepard hurried to the corner and peeked out.

A dark-skinned man wearing some sort of light armor crouched behind a low wall in the middle of the room, which appeared to be the connecting space between two sections of the station's structure. Three mechs stood on a walkway further down the space, while a fourth mech occupied a walkway one floor above the first. The mechs, particularly the one with the superior firing position, had the man pinned down with a constant barrage of fire. However, if the shattered machines littering the area were any indication, the biotic had been giving as good as he got.

"Hey!" The man's frustrated snarl morphed into a look of amazement as Shepard called to him.

"Shepard?" The man's eyes remained wide as Shepard bobbed his head in the affirmative. "What the hell…"

Shepard made a quick tactical analysis. "I've got line of sight on that mech up top. I'll take him out first, then we'll go for the rest. Ready?"

The man grinned. "Hell yeah!" With the mechs still focused on his new squadmate, Shepard sighted in on his first target and hit it with several deliberate shots. The remaining mechs turned to fire on the new threat, but at that moment the biotic stood and pulled one of them over the guardrail and into the cavernous gap between the walkways. The last two mechs quickly folded under focused shotgun and pistol fire.

"Nice work. Could I ask, who – " Shepard's inquiry was cut short as a door on the far walkway opened to let in six more mechs. "Shit!" Shepard, who had been approaching the man with his questions, was forced to take cover behind the same low barrier as bullets cracked overhead.

"What are you doing here?" the man inquired, "I thought you were still a work in progress." Shepard had no idea what _that_ was supposed to mean, but more pressing issues were available.

"Who are you? Are you with Miranda?"

The man seemed to chastise himself internally. "Yeah… sorry. I forgot this is all new to you right now. I'm Jacob Taylor." The man peered over the edge of the wall. "I've been stationed here for –"

A storm of mass accelerator rounds forced his head down. "Damn it!" Jacob grimaced, then snapped off a shot which blew out one of the mechs' faceplates. Satisfied, the man turned back to Shepard. "Things must be worse than I thought if Miranda's got you running around. I'll fill you in, but we better get you to the shuttle first."

Shepard had a million questions whirling through his head, but his priorities were clear. "Alright, lets scrap 'em." Jacob nodded as Shepard took a brief peek at the opposing mechs. "Ok. They're still bunched up. We'll move to opposite ends of this wall to slow down their targeting. When I give the signal, you pull one of them into the others to interrupt their firing line, then we give 'em hell."

"Got it."

Shepard normally didn't micromanage firefights like this, but not having armor on made him want to fight conservatively. Also, while these mechs clearly lacked the intelligence of geth, Shepard knew from study and experience that computer-controlled enemies had the dangerous ability to abruptly interrupt whatever they were doing in order to mass fire on priority targets. The best way he had found to counter this was to keep his front line fluid and his team in constant motion, even if those individual movements didn't have a clear tactical benefit.

When the two men had reached their assigned positions, Shepard sent Jacob a thumbs up. At that signal, Jacob straightened up and swung his arm through the air, biotic corona flaring. As one of the mechs flew into its fellows, Shepard emptied his magazine into the cluster then ducked down to reload. Jacob's shotgun boomed once, twice, and then he too reassumed cover to pop in a fresh clip. A few shots later, and the remaining two mechs joined their fellows in smoking heaps on the floor.

"Okay, looks like we've got a moment." Jacob exhaled and lowered his shotgun as Shepard approached. "I'm sure you've got questions."

"Yeah, the last thing I remember was the Normandy blowing up. My suit got punctured… I can't remember anything after that. This isn't an Alliance hospital, is it?"

"No." Jacob's eyes shifted to the side for a moment. "There's a lot going on, but I'll give you the quick version. When the Normandy got destroyed, you were killed."

 _…What?_

"Dead as dead can be when they brought you here. Our scientists spent the last two years putting you back together. You've been comatose, or worse, that whole time. Welcome back to your life."

"…Two years?"

"Yeah." When Shepard gave him an incredulous look, Jacob brought up his omnitool. "The Alliance declared you killed in action. Let me just… yeah, here's the official report." Shepard scanned the holographic document. It all looked genuine. Similar to the mission reports Shepard had filed after Eden Prime, and then Virmire. There was his name, listed under KIA, along with twenty other crew members. Seeing the names of both Draven siblings made him wince. When he didn't see Joker among the list, or any of his ground team, a tightness in his chest he hadn't been aware of suddenly loosened. Still, if the Alliance listed him as KIA… Shepard looked at the corner of Jacob's omnitool and there it was: the year was 2185 CE.

"When you say dead…" Shepard trailed off, beginning to feel very lost.

"I'm no doctor, but it was bad. When I first saw you, you were nothing but meat and tubes. Anywhere else they'd have put you in a coffin." _Wasn't I spaced? I don't remember any flesh wounds._ "But Project Lazarus was different. Cutting-edge technology." _Project Lazarus? Someone likes their mythological nomenclature._ Ash would have had a field day. _Focus, Shepard._

"I remember Alliance training saying that you can be revived without major brain damage after up to four minutes of vacuum exposure… if they declared me dead, how long was I out there? A few hours? A few days?"

Jacob shook his head. "Project Lazarus recovered your body weeks after you'd been killed. By that time, your body had entered atmo and fallen to the surface of the nearest planet, Alchera. Like I said, meat and tubes."

 _That's…no, not truly impossible…but how?..._ Shepard couldn't wrap his head around it. The medical technology of the galactic community had advanced far enough that most maladies of the flesh could be fixed with drugs, medical procedures, cloned replacements, or cybernetics, but brain death was still very final. In theory, if a dead brain could be physically repaired, and its action potentials restored, then the consciousness would recover. However, performing such a feat would require labor and tools of such incredible sensitivity and detail that no one in recorded history had ever made the attempt. And if he'd been dead for weeks, and his body had experienced atmospheric re-entry…

"How did they… I don't feel… am I even me anymore?" Shepard's thoughts came in a jumble now as he wracked his brains for anything that seemed missing, or out of place. Had he lost crucial parts of his memory? How would he be able to tell? "Did they use cloning? Cybernetics?"

Jacob sensed Shepard's panic. "I don't know the details; you'd have to ask the scientists. But you're not a clone. They wanted to bring you back exactly as you were." He gave an encouraging smile. "You're still you where it counts," he said, tapping his own head for emphasis, "you just might have a few extra bits and pieces now." Despite Jacob's assurances, Shepard could feel the doubts and confusion mounting.

 _Focus on the immediate, Shepard. What's in front of you? What do you have to do, and how will you get it done?_ Anderson's lessons helped him regain control, as they had so many times before. Shepard could ponder his own existence later. Right now, he was on a station under attack. A station of unknown affiliation. The man in front of him, Jacob, seemed to be an ally. _Don't pass up any opportunity to gather info. An informed soldier is an effective soldier._

"Why bring me back? Who commissioned this project?"

Jacob shifted uneasily, "This isn't an Alliance project. I'm sorry, Commander, but I can't say much more than that for now." To his credit, Jacob seemed genuinely remorseful about the non-answer. Shepard didn't miss that Jacob had specified 'for now', which implied that Jacob planned to tell Shepard as soon as his employer allowed. "I can tell you, though, that Project Lazarus' sole purpose was to bring you back. Just you. Even that was a challenge." Jacob nodded, recalling some past experience. "Two years. All the top scientists. The best technology money could buy."

"I can imagine." Shepard had more questions he wanted to ask. He especially wanted access to the extranet, so he could corroborate what Jacob was telling him. However, this whole station was a hostile zone, and Shepard had only a handgun and a kinetic barrier. "There's a hell of a lot more I want to ask, but we should keep moving."

"Right. I was fighting my way to you, but now that you're here, we can head for the shuttles." Jacob started for the door on the far side of the walkway. "I'll take point. Figure you don't want to be in front without proper gear."

Shepard followed, grateful for Jacob's perceptiveness. "That's for sure." They took up positions on either side of the door before Jacob opened it. Seeing no mechs on the other side, the biotic moved up, with Shepard watching the rear. "So, Jacob Taylor, you allowed to tell me anything about yourself?"

"Sure thing, Shepard." Jacob continued to move forward, covering each corner and doorway with his shotgun as they passed. "Technically, I'm Miranda's top lieutenant. But I'm just a soldier. I served five years in the Alliance before this. Now I'm in charge of the station's security." Interesting, Shepard mused. There weren't many biotics in the Alliance military. "Usually a lot more dull than this. Normally I don't fire my gun unless it's target practice."

The revelation that Jacob was an Alliance veteran slightly eased Shepard's suspicion, but he reminded himself that Jacob could be feeding him misinformation. "Did you ever meet Kaidan Alenko during your service?"

Jacob paused for a moment. "No." He looked over his shoulder at Shepard, expression apologetic. "I can tell you that he made it off the Normandy and that as far as we know, he's still alive and with the Alliance. That's all I'm allowed to tell you right now."

Shepard turned these words over in his head as the pair continued forward. "Can you tell me the status of anyone else in the crew?"

"Sure." Jacob bobbed his head eagerly, and Shepard noticed that the man's shoulders had relaxed. Did he want to tell Shepard as much as he could? Or did he expect Shepard to shoot him in the back? "You saw the casualty list from the report. Everyone else, though, they made it off alive, including all the non-human members of the crew."

"Hm. That's good." Shepard had had, at minimum, a good working relationship with every member of his crew, but many of the Alliance servicemen had expected to serve under Captain Anderson; the transferal of command to Commander Shepard had been an, in some cases unpleasant, surprise. Navigator Pressly had been particularly slow to trust Shepard's leadership. The ground team, though… Shepard had brought them together himself, and what a motley team they were. Each one with a different reason to pursue Saren, pulled from five different races, and each with a unique approach to battle, and to life. Shepard couldn't prevent a chuckle from escaping as he thought about how his erstwhile squad would react to his return.

"You alright, Commander?" Jacob was looking over his shoulder again, mouth quirked to one side.

"Yeah." Shepard broke into a full grin as he considered the possibilities. "I just realized that I'm going to be surprising the hell out a few people."

Jacob let out a laugh as they took up flanking positions beside another door. "Glad you're taking this so well. Miranda's been real worried about how you'd react to all this."

Shepard slapped himself mentally. He'd gotten so caught up considering what Jacob had told him that he'd forgotten about Miranda's predicament. "Damn it, I nearly forgot. Miranda was helping me over the intercom before I linked up with you, but then the connection got interrupted. I think she said she had mechs coming for her." Jacob frowned as he considered this development. "Is there any way we can help her?"

Jacob's gaze drifted slightly. "Miranda knows how to take care of herself, but I hope she's okay." With a quick nod to Shepard to see if he was ready, Jacob opened the door and swept in. "Miranda Lawson is the station's ranking officer. She leads the Lazarus team." Shepard followed Jacob through. Any mechs had already been disabled; Jacob's earlier handiwork, Shepard presumed. "It was Miranda's job to bring you back to life. When the attack began, she sent me to get you to safety, till I got pinned down on that walkway. Should have guessed she'd try waking you up. She's not about to let some bunch of mechs destroy two years of work."

"Is she medical, or… I mean, what sort of training does she have?" The last message from Miranda had not been encouraging.

Jacob seemed amused by that. "Miranda's a woman of many talents. She'll probably be waiting at those shuttles before we even get there." Shepard wondered what they would do if she wasn't there, but it was the type of question soldiers learned not to ask aloud. Hopefully Jacob's confidence would be vindicated. "It's probably best if we –"

"Check. Check. Anyone on this frequency?" A male voice issued from Jacob's omnitool. "Anybody still alive out there? Hello?" Jacob motioned to an alcove, taking cover before addressing his omnitool.

"Wilson? This is Jacob. I'm here with Commander Shepard. Just took out a wave of mechs over in D Wing."

"Shepard's alive?" replied the voice, laden with disbelief. "How the hell… never mind. You need to get him out of there. Get to the service tunnels and head for the network control room."

"Roger that, Wilson. Stay on this frequency." Jacob pointed out a door across the hallway. "This way."

"Who's that?"

"Chief medical tech. Answers directly to Miranda." The service tunnels' only illumination came from dim, red emergency lights. Crates, pipes, and structural elements reduced visibility even further. The two men hadn't gone far before they heard several electronic beeps and the whir of servos. Mechs straightened up from where they'd been hibernating along the walls. In the moment before the mechs unfolded fully, Jacob and Shepard were able to riddle them with bullets, but then a door opened on the far end of the tunnel to reveal another hostile squad.

"Damn it, Wilson! This room is crawling with mechs!" While the room had poor sightlines, the obstacles offered plenty of cover to hide behind as Jacob and Shepard picked off the mechs.

"The whole station is crawling with mechs! I'm doing the best I can!" A blue aura surrounded the last of the mechs as it tumbled through the air, right into Jacob's shotgun.

"Wilson? Find us another route out of here. Preferably one that doesn't lead straight into an enemy squad!"

"Just keep moving toward the control room. Don't get pinned down. I'll see what I can do." Jacob grimaced as he took point. Shepard advanced behind him, careful to check every dark corner for the silhouette of huddled mechs.

"Do you think anyone else is still alive?" Now that he had a partner, Shepard felt comfortable planning beyond self-preservation. If Jacob could be believed, Shepard owed his life to the station's staff – a staff which apparently represented some of the best scientific minds this organization had to offer. The galaxy would need such minds to prepare for – _NO, do NOT go there, not now. Focus on the immediate, Shepard._

Jacob shook his head. "Wilson's the only person I've heard from since this whole mess started. I was getting ready for some shut-eye – then, bam. Bunch of explosions." Jacob moved up a set of stairs, checking all sides, then motioned for Shepard to follow. "Next thing I know, every damn mech in the place starts shooting… at us. I'm a biotic, so I could throw down a barrier in time, but most of my security team bought it right then and there." If their deaths bothered Jacob, he had it under wraps. "I'm guessing any non-security personnel had it even worse. Since then, it's just been me and Miranda."

"Sorry about your team." Shepard didn't know how close Jacob might have been with his former colleagues, but the man didn't give off a stone-cold vibe. "How did –"

"Oh, God! They found me! Help!" Wilson's panicked yell startled them both.

"Wilson? Where are you?"

"Server Room B! Hurry! They're out of control!"

Jacob quickened his pace. "Let's go Shepard. Up these stairs!" Shepard's body still ached at the exercise, but his strength was quickly returning. He certainly felt better now than when his mandatory bed rest after the Skyllian Blitz had ended.

"Oh, God! I'm hit! They shot me!" Although Shepard understood that Wilson was a medical tech, likely unused to combat, he found himself growing annoyed with the man's strident yelling. The noise would only bring unwanted attention; hell, Shepard learned that lesson on Earth long before he'd even considered joining the Alliance.

He said as much to Jacob. "We'd better get to him before he gets killed, or brings every mech on the station to us." The two of them rushed ahead, giving each a cursory glance, until Jacob pointed out a hatchway ahead. They took up positions on either side, and after an exchange of nods, stormed through.

A few human and robot bodies littered the floor, but Shepard saw no hostile movement. A man, presumably Wilson, sat against a container, bloody hands clutching a thigh. "I got you covered, Jacob." At that, Jacob moved to Wilson, reaching for a medigel packet on his waist.

"Bastards got me in the leg," Wilson snarled. Satisfied that the room hid no suprises, Shepard took his first good look at Wilson. The tech's pants were soaked in blood, but not enough to indicate damage to a major artery. Wilson grunted in pain as Jacob began dressing the wound, drawing Shepard's attention to his face. Bald, green eyes, light brown mustache and beard… he recognized it from somewhere… Suddenly, understanding bloomed.

"Wilson! You were there when I woke up. Before this, I mean."

Wilson nodded, avoiding Shepard's gaze. "Yeah. That was me. _Hngh!_ "

"Hopefully this should be enough to get you up and moving again." Jacob stood up and wiped his hands on his legs. Wilson grabbed onto the container and pulled himself a standing position, careful to keep weight off his wounded leg.

"Thanks. Never thought Shepard would help save my life." He snorted, glancing in Shepard's direction. "Guess that makes us even now." His gaze shifted to Jacob. "I thought maybe I could shut down the security mechs. But whoever did this fried the whole system. Completely irreversible."

Shepard thought this an admirable display of gumption for a civilian, but Jacob was not impressed. "We didn't ask what you were doing. Why do you even have security mech clearance? You were in the bio wing."

"I came here to try and fix this!" Wilson clearly did not appreciate Jacob's implication. Or, was there a clear implication? Shepard remembered Jacob speculating that a traitor had hacked security. "Excuse me for not wanting to die!"

"Let's figure out who's responsible for this later. I still don't know who you all are, but none of us wants to die on this station. Let's focus on getting to the shuttles." Shepard's suspicion of his new allies had returned, but if he was going to figure out what was going on, he needed to stay alive first.

Jacob broke off the stare he'd been giving Wilson. "Right, Shepard. But we need to find Miranda. We can't leave her behind."

Wilson shook his head. "Forget about Miranda. She was over in D wing. The mechs were all over that sector. There's no way she survived."

"A bunch of mechs won't drop Miranda. She's alive." Jacob's words carried the force of emotion. Strong loyalty, Shepard wondered, or something else? He curbed the thought process. He'd have time to find out later.

"Then – "

Shepard cut Wilson off. "Then where should we go?"

Wilson twisted to point at an exit on the far side of the room, marked with red emergency lights. "The shuttle bay is only – "

At that moment, the doors slid open to reveal a squad of mechs. "Cover!" yelled Shepard. Wilson dropped back onto his ass as Shepard took cover at the edge of a partition wall. Jacob propped his shotgun on the container Wilson was cowering behind and fired into the crowd. The doorway helpfully funneled the mechs into a small area, and within a few seconds all four lay in various states of disassembly.

Shepard took the opportunity to reload. "Let's move, before more of them find us."

"Shepard, wait." Jacob lowered his shotgun to his side. "This is getting tense. If I tell you who we work for, will you trust me?"

Shepard paused. He wasn't sure how to react to that. In his experience, anyone asking for trust believed that they themselves were untrustworthy, which could mean that they were actually untrustworthy, or that they valued trust and wanted to earn it… Damn, now it did feel tense.

Wilson approached, his eyes flickering nervously from door to door. "This really isn't the time, Jacob."

"We won't make it if he's expecting a shot in the back." Now he'd roused Shepard's curiosity. Who did these men work for, that Shepard would be expecting betrayal?

Wilson sighed and folded his arms. "If you want to piss off the boss, it's your ass, Jacob."

"The Lazarus Project." Jacob turned back to face Shepard. "The program that rebuilt you… it's funded and controlled by Cerberus."

 _Cerberus… oh._ Memories drifted forth: of remote research bases, experiments with dangerous creatures, and Rear Admiral Kahoku's tortured body lying among other unfortunate test subjects. What had he learned about the organization? Former Alliance black ops, some sort of pro-human manifesto, possible links to the Terra Firma party and other xenophobes. The projects Shepard had destroyed had apparently been working on human augmentation, trying to make super-soldiers through brute-force experimentation.

Shepard let his eyes drift over Jacob and Wilson. Jacob had assumed a non-threatening posture, arms at his sides, shotgun aimed at the floor. Wilson seemed too annoyed with Jacob's recent admission to give Shepard any of his attention. The narrative he'd been given, being dead for two years… it could be a lie, but lie of such magnitude would be impossible to maintain for long. Maybe Cerberus had attacked this medical facility, hoping to take Shepard prisoner?

Shepard concluded that, at the very least, Cerberus did not want him dead, not yet. Jacob had had plenty of opportunities to kill him; instead, Jacob had volunteered to be Shepard's point man, and even now was voluntarily revealing his employer.

Shepard squinted, as if wracking his brain. "Cerberus… I think I remember that name." Would they try to feed him misinformation?

"You and Cerberus have a history commander. You wiped out several of our research bases. According to the Alliance, we're a radical pro-human splinter group." _Well, he's either very honest, or he's not falling for the bait._ "But things change."

Shepard fought the urge to laugh. Many things constantly changed in the galaxy, but radical speciesism wasn't high on that list. "Those things being?"

Jacob winced. "I can't tell you that right now. But…" Jacob met Shepard's gaze. "Look, I'd be suspicious too. But right now, we have to work together. I thought you deserved to know what's what." He punctuated this statement with a nod. "Once we're off the station, I'll take you to the Illusive Man. He'll explain everything. I promise."

 _Illusive Man?_ "Is he the one in charge of all this?"

"Yeah." Wilson chimed in. "That's not his real name, of course. Nobody knows who he really is."

"It was a code name the Alliance used for him," supplied Jacob. "It kinda stuck."

"Should I consider myself your prisoner, then?" Shepard didn't want to give the Cerberus operatives any ideas, but better to know where he stood with them.

"No." Jacob shook his head emphatically. "But you need to talk to the boss. I guarantee that you'll want to hear what he has to say."

Shepard forced himself to bury his skepticism. He was in no position to run, and he had only tenuous faith in his understanding of the situation. He'd go along, for now. He might even be able to gather useful information for the Alliance. _If I get out of this alive_. "Alright, I can work with that."

Jacob nodded gratefully, then headed for the door the mechs had come through. "We're almost at the shuttles." In the hall beyond lay a large number of human bodies. As they passed, Shepard noted that most had fallen facing towards the shuttle bay. None were armed.

Jacob lead Shepard and Wilson down a flight of stairs and to a door at the end of another hallway. "Shuttle bay is right through here." When he opened the door, a synthetic voice called out "Sleep mode ended", followed by the characteristic whine of unfolding mechs. From their positions at the door, Shepard and Jacob caught two mechs in the open before they'd fully deployed. The shuttle bay's two levels offered many other places for mechs to hide, however.

"That door." Jacob pointed to a door on the wall of the second level, labeled 'Docking Station 2'. "That's where we're going." Two more mechs stepped out from the mess of containers and Kodiak shuttles on the lower level, only to fall to headshots. Shepard was getting accustomed to his pistol, as well as the mechs' movement patterns. The trio crossed the lower area and went up a flight of stairs that brought them next to the target door, only to have two mechs unfold from where they'd huddled on the walkway. Another squad of mechs burst through a door on the far side. Thankfully, their noisy deployment alerted Shepard and Jacob in time for the soldiers to line up their shots. The well-lit, open space became a shooting range.

With the last of the mechs disposed of, Wilson hobbled past the first door in the docking station. "C'mon, through here." He entered a code into the second door's holographic interface. "We're almost at the -"

The door opened to reveal a black-haired woman, wearing a white bodysuit emblazoned with the Cerberus logo. Wilson jumped back. "Miranda! But, you were –"

Miranda raised a gun into his face and fired.


	2. Chapter 2

The scars itched and burned.

"Don't scratch at them," Miranda had said. "It will hamper the healing process." Shepard stared between his knees and rode out the latest wave of discomfort. Lazarus Station, the poetically named site of Shepard's resurrection, had been a charnel house, but at least the rush of combat had drowned out minor concerns, such as the red rifts criss-crossing Shepard's face. Before Miranda had pointed them out, while summarizing medical details of the Lazarus Project, Shepard hadn't even noticed their presence. If he looked to his left, he could see the implants' faint glow reflected in the shuttle window – another reminder of how much had changed over the past two years.

Shepard's most vivid memory from the minutes preceding his death – at least, what the Cerberus operatives Miranda and Jacob insisted had been his death – was of watching the Normandy's death throes while the hiss of a suit breach filled his ears. He could handle that, though. As far as Shepard was concerned, he'd passed out above Alchera and simply woken up again, sore, but combat-ready. The news of his death might have had more force if he hadn't been walking, talking, and shooting for the past hour. However, now that he'd escaped from the legion of hacked mechs trying to kill him, he had begun to speculate – and worry – about what had happened in his absence.

Shepard resisted the urge to shoot a dirty look at Miranda, sitting across from him in the Kodiak with her arms folded and legs crossed. Apparently, Shepard owed her everything, but that wasn't the source of his ire. Nor was her abrupt shooting of Wilson; while Shepard certainly didn't approve, it would be on Miranda's head if she'd been wrong. Additionally, as a SpecTRe working with Urdnot Wrex and Garrus Vakarian, he'd had to get accustomed to the occasional extrajudicial killing, despite Shepard's best attempts to curb his teammates' enthusiasm. No, what Shepard didn't appreciate was Miranda's utter refusal to answer even the most basic questions. He was sitting in front of her – she could at least have the courtesy not to speak to him as if she were the Illusive Man's answering machine. Even worse, once she'd learned that Jacob had revealed their employer to Shepard ahead of time, she'd effectively banished him to the cockpit of the shuttle.

Bossy, smart, beautiful, and a medical professional. Miranda reminded Shepard of his foster sister, back on Earth.

He never got along with his foster sister.

Perhaps the resemblance wasn't perfect. As far as Shepard knew, his sister wasn't xenophobic. Jacob didn't seem like a xenophobe either; he'd distinguished between human and non-human, but he'd said the words without derision or disgust, and such a distinction made sense on board a human military vessel. As for Miranda, Shepard didn't have a damned clue. If Cerberus had been trying to show Shepard a different side, they'd at least roused his curiosity until Miranda spontaneously executed Wilson and put a wall between Shepard and everything he wanted to know.

Shepard was still curious, but apprehension had settled in as well. What did Cerberus want with humanity's 'shining symbol of interspecies cooperation'? After the destruction of Sovereign and the rescue of the Council, Alliance brass and politicians of all races queued up, with Udina happily acting as gatekeeper, to shake the hand of their new SpecTRe poster boy. They were all too eager to have their pictures taken with Shepard's team – never mind the fact that less than half of them deigned to learn Wrex's or Tali's names. The Council, not about to left out of the media frenzy, had Citadel news networks playing Shepard's induction to the SpecTRes and the destruction of 'Saren's flagship' on a near loop. Human, Turian, and Asari pundits did their best to aggrandize the role of their 'representatives' on the Normandy. Shepard tried to navigate the storm humbly – he'd had experience with this sort of attention after the Skyllian Blitz – but no sooner had Shepard begun to question the Council's treatment of the krogan and quarians than he'd been ordered to the Terminus and Traverse to hunt down Saren's remaining geth. Antagonizing a multispecies government by implying it was intolerant – not the sort of action Shepard thought would interest a human supremacist organization.

A new, unpleasant thought occurred to Shepard. Had Cerberus really brought him back the way he was before he died? What if all those implants, even now visible under his partially healed skin, could control his physical or mental faculties? Did they plan to use pain conditioning? Did they have a kill-switch installed in his brain? How much control could neural implants have over his thoughts and actions? _Damn it._ Shepard hated wondering. He tried to recall his relationships with the ground team, to see if anything felt like it had been tampered with.

 _Wrex. Bit of a dick, slow to trust, fond of violence. Surprisingly nuanced views on the krogan situation. Turned out to be very chummy once he got over his mistrust and felt comfortable enough to drop the mercenary attitude. Fond of Tali, for some reason. Maybe their shared role as outsiders to the galactic community?_

 _Garrus. Chip on his shoulder about crime and punishment. Hot-headed, judgmental. Considers himself a bad turian but nevertheless joined up partially to prevent Saren from giving his race a bad name. Eager to see the world outside C-Sec._

 _Ash. Chip on her shoulder about turians and Shanxi. Survivor's guilt from the 212. Gung-ho, loves her sisters, believes in a God… died on Virmire._

 _Tali. Jumpy, brilliant at engineering, well-versed in combat in enclosed spaces. Loves talking about ships and the Flotilla. Named her combat drone Chatika. Immune system a touchy subject._

 _Liara. Lifelong academic, baby-faced for someone over a century old, socially inept but friendly. Fascinated by Protheans. Not a soldier, but quick to learn. Strong biotics. Understands the Reaper threat, perhaps more so than anyone else thanks to the Cipher in my head._

 _Kaidan. The El-tee. Quiet, even-keeled, sometimes a bit too mellow. Went through hell in BAaT, but got out alright. Stuck with the L2 implants, despite discomfort, so he could give the Alliance his best. A good soldier. A good friend._

Shepard began to recall the rest of the Alliance crew, but then he remembered the report Jacob had shown him back on Lazarus Station; the names of the dead. That loss still felt raw. On his way to haul Joker's reluctant ass into an escape pod, he hadn't seen any bodies, but in retrospect, they may have been engulfed in flames, or have been thrown into space when the CIC had been ripped open. Had Shepard been complacent? Had the Normandy's stealth capabilities been a crutch? He reluctantly pushed these thoughts aside. An analysis of his failure could wait until after the current situation had been resolved.

 _And how will this situation be resolved?_ A vast number of scenarios played out in Shepard's head, few of them good. The Cerberus operations Shepard had broken up before had seemed fairly small and crude. Brute-force testing and grungy bases on second-tier worlds; not the polished, ambitious project Lazarus seemed to be. Had the organization found new resources, or decided on a new approach? How did Shepard fit in the picture? The back of his eyes started to throb.

"How long will it take us to get to… wherever we're going?" Miranda peered at him as if expecting deception, but Jacob piped up from the cockpit.

"Just a few hours, Shepard."

Shepard sighed. "You mind if I take a nap?" He directed the question at Miranda, wondering if he'd ever see an expression on her face besides haughty or frustrated. Some sleep would calm his mind, and hopefully soothe his body. Plus, it'd make it a lot easier to avoid her steady glaring.

Miranda raised her omnitool. "First, we need to ask a few questions to evaluate your condition."

"Come on, Miranda. More tests? Shepard took down those mechs without any trouble. That has to be good enough." As much as Shepard appreciated Jacob's vote of confidence, he wanted to see how this test turned out. It would be easier to sort through his memories with someone else asking the questions. The questions themselves might allow Shepard to gain insight into Cerberus' motives.

"It's been two years since the attack. The Illusive Man needs to know that Shepard's personality and memories are intact. Ask the questions." Jacob returned to his seat in the passenger compartment.

"Excuse me? I'll have you know that I've got the best personality around." That got a chuckle out of Jacob, but Miranda did not appear to appreciate the humor.

"The sooner we start," she intoned, words laden with annoyance, "the sooner we can be done. Start with personal history."

"Okay." Jacob activated his omnitool. "Let's start with the basics."

* * *

Half an hour later, Jacob had left Miranda and a dozing Shepard and returned to the cockpit to enjoy the view. Once her omnitool had confirmed that the Commander was out, Miranda had stepped across the passenger area to run diagnostics on his vitals and implants, and Miranda liked her space when she worked. There wasn't much else for Jacob to do – the autopilot in Cerberus' custom Kodiaks could easily handle every aspect of point-to-point travel. Of course, if you tried to access those systems without Cerberus authorization, the shuttle would immediately fry its own computers. Yet another extreme measure Jacob had had to accept after joining Cerberus.

 _Still_ , Jacob mused, as he looked back over his shoulder at Shepard's sleeping form, _who else would be daring enough to pull this off?_ Commander Shepard, back from the dead, but more importantly, _whole_. Jacob hadn't exaggerated Shepard's sorry state at the initiation of the project. When he'd gotten his first glimpse of the Commander's corpse – mangled, burned, and weathered to the point of unrecognition – he might have given up right then and there. The many specialists brought to Lazarus Station – cardiovascular, orthopedic, dermatologic, neural, among so many others – had all agreed that, given enough time and resources, they could restore Shepard's flesh, but his mind? Commander Shepard – the part of him that counted – was gone.

But, Miranda had disagreed, and the Illusive Man wasn't about to let established medical science stop Cerberus. Miranda had pored over medical textbooks and journals, conducted grueling experiments alongside top neurosurgeons and brain tissue experts, and written a constant stream of requisition orders for technology of ever-growing specificity and complexity. Jacob had limited technical expertise, but he'd gleaned from his interactions with the Lazarus techs that a lot of the machines being used on Shepard's nervous system hadn't even existed until Miranda had conceived of and requested them. As always, he'd been impressed by the depth of Cerberus' pockets, and the lengths to which the Illusive Man was willing to go to resurrect a single man who by all rights should hate them. When Shepard's brain had begun to function again, Jacob had expected to be alone in his pushback against Miranda's control chip, but to his great surprise, the Illusive Man himself had stepped in and forbidden anything that might constitute a limit on Shepard's 'growth'. The man sitting in the back of this shuttle was undeniably Commander John Shepard, unchained and unchanged.

Jacob tipped back his chair, propped his feet on the instrument panel, and looked out upon the galaxy. Miranda would have warned him that such a pose violated safety protocol, but if Jacob understood the Illusive Man's plans correctly, then this might be Jacob's last moment to stop and appreciate the amazing progress already achieved by Project Lazarus.

Well, upon reflection, maybe some things in Shepard had changed. Before his death, the Commander had a notable lack of cybernetic implants, a fact which ultimately simplified the Lazarus team's work. Blank slate and all that. Now, luminous red lines in Shepard's face revealed a tiny fraction of the machinery which, as Shepard's body recovered fully, would push his physical abilities beyond any previous limits. Or so Cerberus hoped. With regards to Shepard's mental faculties, however, Cerberus' goal had been to simply bring back the man who once was, and everything so far implied that they had succeeded.

The short interview had dispelled any lingering doubts Jacob might have had about the integrity of Shepard's psyche. While Miranda had been more concerned with Shepard's memory of recent events, Jacob had taken the opportunity to ask Shepard about his logic, his morals and feelings. Admittedly, Jacob's curiosity factored into his questions. Shepard had been a larger than life figure to the rest of the Alliance Marine Corps, and marines were not an easy bunch to impress. Such fame also distorted the perception of the Commander by the media and third-party sources, a fact which had frustrated Miranda to no end as she'd devoured every scrap of information on the man she could find. Jacob couldn't pass up the chance to speak with the Commander face-to-face about his exploits. He also justified his departure from the prescribed list of questions as a more thorough check of the Commander's humanity. A VI could rattle off facts with perfect accuracy, but could you ask it how it felt? No. You needed a living being for that.

The Commander's life had started on Earth; rough stuff, if the dossier had it right. At Miranda's prompting, Shepard had confirmed that he'd been an orphan until being accepted by a foster family at the age of eleven, but Jacob could see that Shepard didn't want to talk about them. The Illusive Man's extensive file on Shepard had included this oft-excluded information – probably because it didn't fit in with the media's 'hero who came from nothing' narrative – as well as the current statuses of his foster mother and foster sister. Both were medical professionals, and Jacob had not failed to notice the tidbit that Shepard's mother knew Dr. Karin Chakwas, who had been a fixture of the Normandy crew, and was now a recent addition to Cerberus' Lazarus division. They were alive, and economically well off, but something kept Shepard from wanting to discuss that part of his life. That was alright. Jacob knew not to press the issue. His own family had had their share of drama.

Shepard had been visibly relieved when the conversation moved on to his Alliance service. Despite his colorful record, Shepard had come across as rather cautious to Jacob's eyes. Some of this could be attributed to humility, but it also seemed that Shepard put a great amount of thought into every action for a man with such a maverick reputation. On Virmire, for instance, Shepard had selected Kaidan to go with the STG team so that the salarians would have a biotic to bolster their capabilities, and Ashley to guard the bomb for her experience fighting Geth in a defensive posture. Shepard said he had also factored Ashley's discomfort with aliens into the decision, judging that she would fight more effectively with the Marines overseeing the bomb. When pressure on both the second AA tower and the bomb site forced Shepard to prioritize one team over another, he chose to rescue the salarian team Kaidan had accompanied. Shepard reasoned that the Council would be more likely to recognize Saren's threat if a high-ranking STG officer could corroborate his story.

Smarter people would decide whether Shepard had made the right calls. Instead, Jacob had focused on the Commander's body language as he recalled these events. A movement of the eyes, a bounce of the knee, a tilt of the head… Jacob was no psychologist, but he knew people in a way Miranda didn't care to. Unstable people had warning signs. In the Marines, a good officer learned how to spot fatigue, or a man ready to crack. Jacob had been relieved to see Shepard display none of those signs. The man spoke deliberately, and the frequent movements of his eyes belied his calm, sometimes humorous tone, but in the Commander's situation, who wouldn't be a bit fearful and confused? Jacob hoped the Illusive Man could put any fears to rest, and show Shepard that Cerberus might represent the greatest opportunity of his life.

Well, his second life.

* * *

A sudden shift in gravity caused Shepard to wake. He had fallen asleep right after Miranda's little quiz session concluded, the adrenaline from Lazarus station finally winding down. He blinked rapidly and took a deep breath to sweep away the cobwebs. Miranda still occupied the seat across from him, and lo and behold, she was still watching him like a hawk. Jacob, Shepard concluded, must have returned to the cockpit at some point. Groggy, Shepard raised his head when a flash of color caught his eye.

Through the windows lay a great, curved expanse of vibrant greens, deep blues, and wispy white clouds. Shepard practically jumped out of his seat to get a better angle on the planet below. _Earth?_ Shepard rubbed his eyes and looked again. _No, not Earth_. The local star wasn't the right color, and if Shepard was judging the shuttle's current altitude correctly, then this planet was far larger than Earth. Shepard settled back, somewhat disappointed, but now fully awake. Belatedly, he remembered the nature of the company he was in. Cerberus couldn't just stroll into Earth orbit. Could they?

For once, Miranda said something Shepard wanted to hear. "We're approaching the station."

Shepard leaned to the side, hoping to get a glimpse of their destination through the cockpit's digital canopy. Fortunately, Jacob didn't appear to be one of those pilots who flew on instruments only. The ever-increasing robustness of computer-controlled flight and docking programs undermined the necessity of canopies, especially in commercial spaceships; nevertheless, Shepard felt much more comfortable when he could see out front of the vehicle he was in. One of the first topics he'd bonded with Joker about had been their mutual appreciation of open canopies.

The station ahead vaguely resembled a bow and arrow aimed toward the planet's surface. Although, the arrow was more of a zig-zag, and the bow – Shepard gave up on finding the right imagery. He committed the silhouette to memory, wondering if he'd ever get the chance to inform the Alliance about the place.

While Shepard tried to pick out distinctive details, the station began to fill the front canopy, until it became clear that the shuttle was heading for the upper section of the crooked central tower. A few kilometers from the station, Shepard could make out the angled plating on the station's surface, as well as the modular structure underneath. Every window had an armor curtain posed overhead, ready to slam shut over the exposed space. Shepard made note of the station's docking tubes as the shuttle slid into an open bay. Most of the tubes appeared to be of the correct length and sturdiness to handle cruiser-sized craft. Did Cerberus field cruisers, or was the station simply overdesigned?

The Kodiak settled onto the deck with a muffled clang, spooling down its engines. Shepard rose to his feet, eager for this promised meeting with the head of Cerberus, and itching to find out what else lay in store. Miranda stood as well, and as the artificial gravity of the shuttle switched over to that of the station, Jacob joined them from the cockpit. The shuttle ran through a pressurization check, and finally, the door was open.

Despite his nervous energy, Shepard let Miranda lead as the trio exited the shuttle and then the docking bay. Shepard had half-expected to be greeted by a team of Cerberus commandos and a prison cell, but the room that he entered was surprisingly pedestrian – it looked exactly like the waiting area of a commercial spaceport. Simple chairs filled an area next to the expansive windows, each row capped with an extranet terminal. The only oddities to Shepard's eyes were the Cerberus logos stamped on every door, and a noticeable absence of people. Two men wearing plainclothes stood at desks inside what could have passed as a booking office anywhere else. They'd looked up at the sound of the door, but after briefly taking in the full party, they'd returned to their work with nary a second glance.

Miranda appeared to have work of her own, for upon entering the room she'd made a beeline for one of the extranet terminals. Shepard longed to follow suit. The need to find something – anything – to either confirm or deny the crazy narrative he'd been fed over the past few hours. Knowledge about his former crew, the state of the galaxy, the Alliance, the Council… Shepard pulled himself back to the immediate. Jacob had taken up position by the windows, enjoying the cosmic scenery. However, Miranda was watching Shepard expectantly. _Damn._ Shepard hoped his internal conflict hadn't caused a manic expression to appear on his face. He'd always been terrible at poker.

"Follow that staircase." Miranda cocked her head at a doorway in the corner. "The Illusive Man is waiting."

* * *

Anadius. "Before God". Sometimes, the Illusive Man wondered if it was wise to mark Cerberus with names from human antiquity. Perhaps secrecy would be easier to maintain if Cerberus had no distinguishing marks. But, as he gazed into the roiling inferno of the dying star, as he had done so many times before, he knew he had made the right choices. He was no Shadow Broker, ever hiding behind smoke and mirrors, emerging only to reap profit. Cerberus concealed itself out of practicality, not fear. The work Cerberus did was too important to be subject to the whims of bureaucracy and the scruples of naysayers. And perhaps it was appropriate that Cerberus, a uniquely human idea, would use a nomenclature that only humans could truly understand.

He sipped his bourbon. Produced in Kentucky, UNAS, near the city which gave the spirit its name. It, and the cigarette clutched in his right hand, were the only vices he had allowed himself to keep all these years. They were remnants of a simpler time. A time before he had learned the harsh truths of the galaxy. His physician might chide him for his weakness, but the Illusive Man knew that life wasn't about squeezing out as many years as possible, and simply _existing_. His vices made him human, connected him to that which he worked tirelessly to preserve.

Tireless though he was, he enjoyed this moment to step away from the complex Cerberus network. Any moment now, Commander Shepard would be stepping onto a QEC pad on Minuteman Station, to begin a conversation the Illusive Man had anticipated for years. Not because of Shepard's record as a soldier; the Illusive Man had dozens more skilled and deadly individuals in his employ (though, if the Lazarus Project fulfilled its true potential, Shepard might rise above them all). Neither did he expect Shepard to join his circle of ardent supporters and hangers-on; the Illusive Man had plenty of those. No, the Illusive Man looked forward to this meeting because Shepard, of all people in the galaxy, could understand what the Illusive Man fought for.

Behind him, the QEC hummed to life. He sipped his bourbon, savored the taste, and swiveled to face his newest ally.

Shepard fought the urge to dive off the pad before it became evident that he was merely being scanned. When he'd seen the dark room at the bottom of the staircase, illuminated by a single circle of light, he'd debated the wisdom of following the implied instructions. However, it hadn't taken long for his curiosity to overcome his reservations. Cerberus was going to a lot of effort to sell Shepard a new image, and Shepard wanted to know why.

When the scanning interface reached the ceiling, the inky darkness surrounding Shepard sprung to life. An aging white giant, startling in its nearness, dominated the space. Other stars, bright as in any observatory, filled the areas overhead. A dark mass interrupted the turbulent display of the dying star, and as Shepard's eyes adjusted to the light, he could make out the seated silhouette of a man.

The man raised his right arm and took a long draw from the cigarette held between his fingers. "Commander Shepard."

The Illusive Man knew how to make an entrance, Shepard granted. "Illusive Man. I thought we'd be meeting face-to-face."

"A necessary precaution." Shepard could see well enough to make out the Illusive Man's expensive suit and popped collar. The man had a drink held in his left hand, which he raised to inspect. "Not unusual for people who know what you and I know." Ice clinked as he sipped from his glass.

So, the Illusive Man was trying to establish common ground. Shepard folded his arms, intrigued. "And what exactly is it that 'you and I know'?"

"That our place in the universe is more fragile than we'd like to think." He let Shepard mull those words over as he took another drag from his cigarette. "That one man – one very specific man – might be all that stands between humanity and the greatest threat of our brief existence."

Ice gripped Shepard's heart. "The Reapers." What else could demand such absolute terms?

"Good to see your memory's still intact." The Illusive Man tapped away the ash from his cigarette, either unaware or uncaring of the maelstrom his words had ignited in Shepard's mind. Were the Reapers on the move? Had Sovereign's promise of galactic annihilation come to fruition? "How are you feeling?"

"I was feeling fantastic until you brought up the Reapers." The unpolished words came out before Shepard could stop them. He mentally slapped himself. The Illusive Man was still a wholly unknown element. Shepard needed to play his cards close to his chest, find out as much as he could. "I noticed a few… 'upgrades'," said Shepard, motioning towards his face. "I hope you didn't replace anything important."

The Illusive Man steepled his fingers. "We tried to keep you as intact as possible. We need Shepard – just as you were when you defeated Sovereign."

So, Cerberus was finally revealing their motives. But, a lot of things still didn't add up. If the Reapers had returned to begin their harvest, then why all this intrigue? And why spend so many resources to resurrect one man, instead of constructing more warships or investing in new weapons technologies? Shepard hadn't 'defeated' Sovereign, he'd merely brought the Reaper within striking distance for Hackett and the fleet. "What, exactly, is going on that made you decide to bring me back?"

The Illusive Man uncrossed his legs and stood. "We're at war." He approached Shepard, who could now detect the blue glow of cybernetics in the Illusive Man's eyes. "No one wants to admit it, but humanity is under attack. While you've been sleeping, entire colonies have been disappearing. Human colonies."

The Illusive Man stood level with Shepard now, cigarette still in his hand but burning down, temporarily forgotten. "We believe it's someone working for the Reapers, just as Saren and the geth aided Sovereign. You've seen it yourself," he said, extending a hand towards Shepard. "You bested all of them. That's just one reason we chose you."

Shepard relaxed slightly. It was a relief to know that the blood-curdling omens of the Prothean beacon had yet to be realized. Now, he could focus his efforts on his immediate situation without the pall of imminent doom hanging overhead. "The Reapers harvest all life in the galaxy. Why would they go after a few human colonies?"

"Hundreds of thousands of colonists have vanished. I'd say that fits the definition of 'harvesting'." _Shit_. Colony life, especially outside established Alliance space, had many risks, but hundreds of thousands? "Nobody's paying attention because it's random, and the attacks occur in remote locations. I don't know why they've suddenly targeted humanity," continued the Illusive Man, tone even. "Maybe you got their attention when you killed one of them."

There it was again, attributing Sovereign's destruction to Shepard. Shepard wasn't allergic to praise, but in the weeks following the Reaper's defeat, he would have happily given up his hero status if it could have prompted the Council to recognize the need for a military build-up. The last time he'd had the chance to speak with them in person, they'd been receptive of Shepard's findings, but not his recommendations. Although, with Anderson as the first human Councilor, had the notoriously conservative governing body finally started to move? "Are you saying that the Council, and the Alliance, aren't paying attention to this?"

The Illusive Man nodded. "That's exactly what I'm saying. The Council won't help colonies outside their borders, and the Alliance is still rebuilding, stretched too thin to devote resources to the Reaper threat. Blaming the abductions on mercs and pirates is easier. And more convenient."

"The Reaper threat is the only threat that should matter." Shepard felt his ire growing. Back when fighting Saren, he understood that, as the sole remaining bearer of the Prothean vision from Eden Prime, he needed to temper his message in order that he not appear deranged. However, the attack on the Citadel had changed all that. A Reaper had landed right in the Council's lap, demolished their best warships, and hijacked technology that even the Asari had yet to figure out. "How does Cerberus play into all this?"

"We are committed to the advancement and preservation of humanity. If the Reapers are targeting us, trying to wipe us out, Cerberus will stop them." Shepard disliked the subtext of Cerberus' motto, but if they were the only ones taking the Reapers seriously, maybe... no, he needed to verify all of this with external sources before he could begin to make judgments. "If we wait for politicians –" the Illusive Man swung his hand dismissively "– or the Alliance to act, no more human colonies will be left."

The picture the Illusive Man painted was not a pleasant one, and Shepard had yet to understand his place in it. "It's good to hear that you're taking the Reapers seriously, but why devote so many resources to bring me back if you already understand the threat?"

"You're unique." Shepard fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Not just in ability or what you've experienced, but in what you represent. You stood for humanity at a key moment." Here, the Illusive Man fixed Shepard with his gaze, affording Shepard a clear view of the intricate pattern in the man's eyes. "You're more than a soldier – You're a symbol. And," he added, lips curling in a slight smile, "I don't know if the Reapers understand fear, but you killed one. They have to respect that."

 _'Rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. You touch my mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding.'_ "I'm glad you're so optimistic." Shepard hoped he wouldn't regret his next words. "I need more information, and to check what you've told me so far… but if you think it's the Reapers, then what's the next step?"

"I'd be disappointed if you accepted any of this without seeing for yourself." The Illusive Man turned back to his chair. "I have a shuttle ready to take you to Freedom's Progress, the latest colony to be abducted." He straightened his shirt as he sat down. "Miranda and Jacob will brief you."

"What happens after that?"

Settling back into his chair, the Illusive Man scratched his brow, then tapped away his cigarette ash. "You always have a choice, Shepard. If you don't find the evidence we're both looking for, we can part ways." Shepard doubted the Illusive Man saw this option as even remotely possible. "But first, go to Freedom's Progress. Find any clues you can. Who's abducting the colonies. Do they have any connection to the Reapers?" The Illusive Man tapped a control on his chair. "I brought you back. It's up to you to do the rest."


	3. Chapter 3

Shepard found himself back in a dark room as the QEC's holographic interface withdrew into the floor. He rubbed his eyes for a moment, letting his senses reorient themselves, then headed back up the stairs to where Miranda and Jacob were waiting. The conversation with the Illusive Man had felt longer than it had been, probably due to all the revelations that had been dropped on Shepard's head. The two Cerberus operatives remained where Shepard had left them, but Jacob turned at the sound of Shepard's footsteps.

"So, how'd it go, Commander?" The man spoke easily, though Shepard wondered if both he and Miranda had been waiting with breath bated for Shepard's decision, the same way Shepard had been waiting for the hammer to drop ever since Cerberus had revealed itself.

Showmanship aside, the Illusive Man had presented a compelling narrative. Shepard still planned to sift through every claim with a fine-toothed comb, but the pieces had begun to fall into place. Getting kicked off to the Terminus to hunt down 'rogue geth'? Until now, Shepard had attributed that to political displeasure over letting his opinions loose on galactic media. If the issue had been his claims about the Reapers, though… yes… it would be far easier for the Council to dismiss the Reapers without their newest star fighting them at every step. Still, Anderson and the Alliance wouldn't take such treatment lying down, would they?

"It was… an enlightening conversation." Jacob was a former Marine; maybe he still had his fingers on the Alliance's pulse. "Is it true, then? What the Illusive Man said about the Council and the Alliance?" _Let's see if they've got their story straight._

Jacob grimaced. "Yeah." He paused, caught up in a memory. "I fought on Eden Prime, Commander."

"Ah." That sentence alone spoke volumes. Shepard could guess where this was going.

"You don't forget that sort of thing. Lost a lot of friends that day. But even when you found the bastard who was responsible, the Council wouldn't let us do anything about it." Shepard nodded, remembering well the delicate dance he'd been forced to perform. The Council only allowed him to operate in the Verge in his capacity as a SpecTRe, which meant he couldn't technically use Alliance credits for anything beyond the Normandy's basic expenses and crew salaries. Even getting that much had been a bureaucratic snafu, to hear Anderson recall it. Without Tali's expertise on salvage, Shepard would've had to save the Citadel with a sharp rock for a weapon. "I got so fed up with it all that I tried joining the Corsairs."

The name didn't ring any bells. "Corsairs?"

"It was an Alliance initiative. They hired 'independent' starship captains and used them for missions that fell outside official Alliance jurisdiction. Technically, we weren't part of the Alliance. If we ever got caught, they could disavow any knowledge of us." Risky, thought Shepard, but with the Alliance blocked by official Citadel channels, it was an effective way to sidestep the Council. Letter of the law and such.

"You weren't satisfied, I assume?"

Jacob frowned. "We were supposed to be free from restrictions and rules, but there was still enough red tape to sink a cruiser. I finally just gave up."

Although Shepard understood Jacob's frustration, he had trouble believing that Jacob was a 'results at any cost' type of guy. "How'd you get from there to joining Cerberus?"

"Right. The Alliance, and the Council? I thought things would change after the attack on the Citadel. Humanity was finally invited to join the Council. But nothing changed. Politics. Bureaucracy. Same bullshit, different leaders. When you died, Commander, they swept what you'd found under the rug. Tried to pretend that everything was business as usual." Jacob shook his head, disgusted.

"Anderson wouldn't stand for that."

"He didn't, but with you gone, there wasn't much that he could do, even as Councilor." Jacob sighed. "It didn't help that Alliance brass started second-guessing him as well."

Shepard felt a surge of sympathy for his former mentor. Anderson had never been interested in the political life, but Shepard had urged him to seek the seat on the Council because Udina didn't seem to appreciate the gravity of the Reaper threat. He resolved to check in on the Councilor as soon as he had the opportunity. "I take it you didn't appreciate the Alliance's handling of the situation either?"

"No." Jacob seemed to consider his next words carefully. "Commander, I know Cerberus has a mixed record. I can't justify what you ran into back when you were fighting Saren. But Cerberus has also done a lot of good, even if we'll never get credit for it. People worry about our lack of oversight, but when colonies go missing, we don't commission a team to write a report to figure out what the hell to do about it. We just go and find out." Here, Jacob paused. "I don't fully trust the Illusive Man, but as long as he gives me the opportunity to make a difference, I'll work with him."

Shepard appeared to occupy much the same position. "So, I assume you know about this colony we'll be heading to?"

"It's called Freedom's Progress. Don't know much else." Jacob shrugged. "I guess we'll find out when we get there." He began to turn away then halted. "I'm glad the Illusive Man convinced you to join us, Commander."

Shepard snorted and held up his hand. "Hold up. I'm not joining Cerberus, not… I want to find out what's happening with all these missing colonists, and figure out what's going on everywhere else. Then, we'll see what happens."

Jacob nodded. "Fair enough." He gestured across the room to a sealed set of doors. "We need to get you equipped. The armory's right this way."

"Not that I'm complaining," commented Shepard as he followed Jacob down a hallway, "but you're willing to let me arm myself?" Miranda had confiscated Shepard's pistol when he'd stepped onto the shuttle, and Shepard hadn't seen any good reason to press the issue. Gunfire and biotics in a Kodiak were a great way to get everyone spaced.

Jacob looked back. "Do you trust me, Commander?"

Shepard decided to answer honestly. "Not yet."

The answer seemed to satisfy Jacob. "At least you're giving me a chance. Most Alliance soldiers hate Cerberus on principle. But I don't think you're the kind of guy who'd shoot someone in the back."

 _Let's hope it never comes to that._ "Have you had any run-ins with the Alliance since joining Cerberus?"

"No, thankfully. Some of my old friends caught wind of what I was up to, though." Jacob chuckled. He walked up to a locked door near the end of the hall and began to enter a code. "Wasn't pleasant, but dealing with a few angry extranet messages is worth the trouble." The doors opened to reveal racks of pristine weapons, crates full of synth-diamond thermal clips, a row of prototype armor sets, and tables carrying grenade and rocket launchers. "Especially considering the benefits."

* * *

If Shepard had died, then he had finally found his way to heaven. The armory only carried human-manufactured weapons, which shouldn't have been a surprise given Cerberus' reputation, but Shepard did not feel starved for choice in the slightest. So far, he'd selected the M-96 "Mattock" DMR, the M-5 "Phalanx" pistol, and the M-22 "Eviscerator" shotgun. As he browsed, Jacob had been happy to bring Shepard up to speed on how weapons had been evolving over the past two years, as well as providing a short history of each weapon Shepard picked up. His enthusiasm reminded Shepard of Ash, who had been a consummate gun nut, even more so than Garrus.

It was also a relief to have weapons fitted to human standard. During the fight against Saren, a perk of becoming a SpecTRe was having authorization to buy from the SpecTRe armory, which collected the Council races' best weapons into one place, as well as carrying some experimental weapons not yet authorized for military use. Unfortunately, as the SpecTRe armory's very first human client, Shepard had been forced to use weapons built for the asari. While asari shared a considerable number of physical features with humans, the race as a whole tended to have slighter builds and lower mass than humans, even before taking into account humans' sexual dimorphism. Shepard couldn't deny that the HMW line of weapons, which were the SpecTRe armory's premium versions of time-tested military weapons, were vastly superior to anything he'd used in the Alliance. However, sometimes he felt like he was using toy guns; the grip was a bit too small, the trigger guard too confining, the recoil too light. The ergonomics of his new weapons felt much better.

The armor sets were particularly fascinating. Shepard had never seen so many custom armors in the same room before, and Jacob had confirmed that yes, every set had been fitted to Shepard's measurements. The first set to catch Shepard's eye had N7 markings on it, and Shepard had correctly identified it as the latest version of N7 standard-issue which had been developed during his absence. As much as he wanted to use the familiar set, he decided that the N7 logo might invite unwanted scrutiny. Plus, it didn't feel right to display the prestigious Alliance rank while he carried out an investigation using Cerberus resources. Jacob had accepted this explanation without judgment and had eagerly launched into a description of the remaining sets.

One set looked like plate-mail from Earth's 2nd millennium, with a bright red dragon emblazoned across the left side of the torso. Apparently, this armor had been created for Earth's Urban Combat Championship, hence the gaudy appearance, and Jacob had pointed out to Shepard the signatures of the Edmonton Blood Dragons, as well as a few choice words about the geth, carved into the back of the breastplate. Shepard had watched the EUCC through the display windows of electronics stores, back in his youth on Earth. He had even fantasized a few times about joining a team and making it big. He and Jacob had shared a laugh when Shepard noted that he'd acquired all the skills, but none of the perks, of an EUCC star. While the armor was apparently superior to standard military issue, Shepard found it far too showy for his liking.

Shepard might have used the next set Jacob led him to if not for one glaring problem: it screamed 'Cerberus'. The heavy armor, which Jacob said had been designed by Cerberus for troops expecting intense combat, pulled several of its design elements from the N7 set, such as the shape of the visor and the plating on the legs. The armor plates and shielding were both a few steps above the usual infantryman's equipment. However, it had been painted in white, black, and yellow, and Cerberus logos had been engraved onto the helm and chest. Shepard wanted armor which could deflect bullets, not armor which would invite them.

The armor Shepard had settled on was called Inferno armor. Another Cerberus design, this suit thankfully did not announce its affiliation to everyone in visual range, although Shepard did hope he'd have the chance to change its eye-watering orange-red hue. Color aside, Shepard had been drawn to the armor by a structural element which Jacob had confirmed: a powered exoskeleton. Powered exoskeletons had been on the rise in human militaries during the years leading up to the discovery of the Mars archives, which had shown humanity how to create kinetic barrier generators for infantry. Powered exoskeletons quickly lost favor after that; if a soldier was going to carry around a power pack, then he'd be using that power to sustain his kinetic barriers. In theory, a soldier could simply get a larger, more energy-dense power pack to enjoy both technologies, but if that pack happened to get breached during combat, then that soldier would instead be enjoying an uncontrolled reaction on his skin.

The Inferno armor's large, back-mounted power packs were heavily armored, but Cerberus had subverted the power pack breaching issue in yet another way. The armor's underlayer, while engineered to be significantly more resistant to all forms of damage than the standard under-armor weave, prioritized one resistance above all the rest: heat resistance. Jacob brought up a video on his omnitool for Shepard, who watched, amazed, as Cerberus techs donned the armor for testing and purposefully breached the power packs. As expected, a bright plume of superheated material would engulf the wearer, but when all the energy had been released and armor was removed, multiple trials showed that the person inside had suffered, at most, a light burn directly under the breach point. In fact, Jacob had cheerfully informed a dazzled Shepard, the idea for the armor's name had originated from these tests.

One drawback of the Inferno armor was that parts of the exoskeleton could not be assembled by the wearer. As Jacob helped him put the armor on, a thought occurred to Shepard. "What about you and Miranda?"

"I've got my armor on already," said Jacob, not looking up from the pauldron he was fixing into place. When he noticed Shepard's skeptical expression, he laughed and continued on. "Don't worry, Shepard. I know it's light stuff, but it helps me use my biotics more finely. Anyone who gets through my shields has to get through my barriers as well."

"What about Miranda? She's not planning to head out in that outfit, is she?" The woman might be suspicious and rude, but for the time being, Shepard had no desire to see her come to bodily harm. Also, Shepard hoped to avoid walking around a colony with a woman in a Cerberus catsuit. Call it media training, or common sense; such a sight would send the wrong message on multiple levels.

"Miranda's probably putting on her armor right now, in a different room obviously."

"What about weapons?"

"Miranda prefers to use her biotics in combat, and sometimes her omnitool. She's usually comfortable with just a pistol." Shepard secured the collar sections of his armor into place, then stretched the underlayer's hood over his head. Next came a series of rings for his neck, then the lower part of the helmet assembly. Finally, Shepard connected the top half of the helmet at the 'chin', and tipped it back until the plates along the edges of the piece detected a seal and extended downwards to cover the back and sides of his head. A default HUD appeared, and Shepard breathed deeply. He felt at home again.

The new armor moved wonderfully as Shepard took an experimental jog around the armory. To his relief, the whine of the servos was barely perceptible, regardless of the speed at which they moved. Shepard did notice that he tired very quickly, even with the exoskeleton assisting his actions, but if his reconstructed body had been lying on a slab for over a year, then weakness would have to be expected. It was a credit to the thoroughness of the Lazarus team's work that he was fit enough to stand. Though he didn't know anyone on the station well enough to feel loss, Shepard found himself wishing that the scientists' cumulative knowledge and skill could have been saved, even if they belonged to Cerberus.

"Here Shepard, grab a rig and some ammo." Shepard accepted the offered gear and, once the straps had been tightened, started filling the rig with thermal clips. He also picked up a medical kit and several medigel packets, four fragmentation disc grenades, and a new Polaris omnitool. While the temptation to immediately set up the omnitool was strong, he forced himself to hold off until he was in the shuttle to Freedom's Progress. The rifle, shotgun, and pistol attached to his armor with satisfying clicks as Jacob finished filling his combat belt.

"Do you think we'll need any heavy weapons?" Shepard looked longingly at the tables full of explosive ordnance. It seemed like such a waste to not take any of it with them, but in his current state, Shepard wasn't sure he'd be able to handle the weight of a full combat load plus that of a rocket launcher and its ammunition.

"Honestly, Commander, I'm not sure. The colony's small; out of the way. We only just learned about it."

The Illusive Man had asked Shepard to investigate, not engage and destroy. And whatever entity was responsible for the disappearances had subdued hundreds of thousands of colonists. A three-man team wouldn't be able to take on such a force, no matter how many heavy weapons they brought. Still… "Sorry to ask, Jacob, but would you be willing to carry one of the Cobras and a single reload?"

"No problem." Jacob picked up the requested items, "And Commander, the Illusive Man told Miranda and I to follow your lead for this mission, so you don't need to be so polite." Jacob grinned as he joined Shepard at the door. "Though I appreciate it."

"Alright. I will warn you though, when combat gets heated, my temper can flare up."

That got Jacob's attention. "Oh-ho! So the great Commander Shepard doesn't always keep a cool head?"

"Hey, I'm only human."

Miranda had already changed into her armor and returned to her extranet terminal by the time Jacob and Shepard returned to the waiting area. The suit she wore appeared to be a less bulky version of the heavy Cerberus armor Shepard had turned down, painted in a classy black with – _with a bright yellow Cerberus logo in front. Damn._ Jacob's armor had the logo as well, but Jacob had the good sense to conceal it behind one of the straps of his rig. "Miranda…" The woman looked up.

"Yes, Shepard?" For once, she wasn't glaring at him. Shepard hated to spoil the moment.

"Is it a good idea to have that logo visible when we go to the colony?" With that, the frown returned. "Look, I'm not trying to be petty. But that logo might make us more enemies than friends."

"The colony is deserted, Shepard." Miranda indicated her terminal. "We don't have anyone on the ground yet, but our scans haven't picked up any human life signs within the last few hours."

Did her resistance to Shepard's request constitute fierce loyalty to Cerberus, balking at Shepard's command, or both? "Fine." Shepard didn't feel like pushing the issue. "What else do you know about the colony?"

If Miranda reveled in her small victory, she didn't show it. "Freedom's Progress is a typical human settlement in the Terminus System. Population, just under six hundred thousand."

"Six hundred thousand? And they've all disappeared?" The Illusive Man hadn't mentioned that hundreds of thousands of colonists were going missing all at once.

"Not all of them, but a significant number. One of the four major population centers has gone completely dark. The exact scope of the abduction isn't clear yet, but we estimate somewhere between one hundred to one hundred and fifty thousand colonists have gone missing."

Not as bad, but still terrible. "What about the remaining colonists? Haven't they noticed something's wrong?"

Miranda shook her head. "Not yet. Whoever, or whatever, hit the colony chose an isolated zone. Our assets in the area have been warding off any comm or vehicle traffic by issuing warnings of an ongoing reactor incident. The site should be pristine when we get there."

"Callous, but smart." Miranda looked up at him again. Was that a hint of surprise on her face? "Let's finish up here and get underway. We can come up with a plan on the ride there."

She gave him a curt nod. "Of course, Commander. I'll be done in a moment."

After that, the three of them boarded the refueled Kodiak, Jacob entered their destination into the shuttle's computers, and off they went. As the shuttle departed the station, Shepard remained standing, watching the planet below pass by. It wasn't Earth, but the colors were familiar, calming. Shepard let his mind empty for a moment. He'd have plenty to think about soon enough.

* * *

Freedom's Progress was silent, and it was making Tali'Zorah vas Neema nervous. Certainly, a remote colony could be expected to be quieter than a ship of the Flotilla, but this absolute, oppressive nothingness? Something very wrong had happened here, and it clearly wasn't a reactor incident, as the human warning messages claimed.

Her team – or perhaps more accurately, the team she'd been saddled with, she reflected bitterly – were getting antsy as well. Han'Gerrel had meant well, assigning her several troublemakers so that they could 'learn from one of the finest Quarians in the Flotilla'. However, when you put together troublemakers, what you got out was more trouble, and Tali didn't have the skills or inclination to deal with them. Ironic as it was, Tali trusted her ability to make a geth unit fight for her far more than she trusted her ability to command her own people. As always, being the daughter of the great Admiral Rael'Zorah seemed to bring far more problems than perks.

Rael'Zorah could have shown her how to lead. _Keelah_ , leading seemed to be the only thing he was capable of. While losing the Normandy, and her Captain, had been difficult, Tali had returned to the fleet with more data on the geth than any pilgrim before her. Zaal'Koris, geth sympathizer that he was, might have pontificated about how the geth's odd attachment to old records of quarian art might constitute life, but none of the Admirals, not even the arrogant, venomous, and sometimes creepy Daro'Xen, could deny the military and scientific significance of Tali's gift to the Neema's captain. No longer was Tali a little girl, too young and immature to stand by her father's side as he worked to return the homeworld to the quarian race. She probably had more field experience working against Geth than all of Special Projects combined. But when the ceremonies had ended, after Tali had finished delivering her formal reports on Saren, the geth, and the Reapers to the Conclave and Admiralty Board, her father had simply congratulated her on her successful pilgrimage, then disappeared back into one of his research vessels. The model Admiral at all times, not wasting any minute that could be spent working to advance the quarian race.

Now, here she was, trying to bubble-wrangle a bunch of young fools on a 'simple' extraction mission that grew more uncomfortable with every passing minute. Tali liked Admiral Gerrel, but to be honest, she'd joined the Neema partly because she knew her father's friend would grant her leeway to work in Special Projects. It might have been simpler if she'd presented her pilgrimage gift to one of the Special Projects vessel captains. Unfortunately for her, she happened to be the daughter of Rael'Zorah; receiving her title from one of his ships would smack of nepotism. Tali had waited patiently for her father to call upon her to join Special Projects. Eventually, she'd summoned her reserves of courage and _requested_ a spot in Special Projects. Still, she heard nothing, besides automated responses that assured her that her request was being considered, and so in the meantime she'd had to deal with a constant stream of assignments that would be far better suited to a proper marine.

"Tali, over here!" Tali grudgingly complied with Prazza'Raan's request. Prazza shared a clan name with Auntie Raan, but that was where the similarities ended. While young, and eager to use this mission as a chance to see something new, he was reckless, and had a serious problem with authority. Picking up Veetor'Nara should have been a simple affair, and even though the situation they'd found – the colony completely empty of humans, as if they'd all dropped what they'd been doing and disappeared – had been a jarring surprise, they could have followed procedures and made their first order of business the gathering of information off local sources. Prazza, however, decided that since the colony looked empty, the quarians could just stroll to Veetor's address. Why waste time with the tedious business of hacking and watching surveillance feeds? He and his squad had barely crossed a block when a swarm of drones had appeared on the rooftops and pinned them all down. Tali had managed to take over the IFF systems of two of the drones, and the ensuing chaos had given the quarians the opportunity they needed to defeat the ambush. Miraculously, no one had been hurt, and for the time being Prazza seemed to be following her lead. Nevertheless, Tali had…what was the expression Joker used to express frustration with the Council? She'd 'had it up to here with Prazza's bullshit'.

Prazza pointed to the terminal which had been spliced into a surveillance line. Tali could have done the work herself in a quarter of the time, but Jaenn'Coss needed the practice. Let it not be said that Tali'Zorah shirked her duty to the Neema. "What have you found, Jaenn?"

Jaenn waved his hand in exasperation. "Just like the last one. Several hours have been wiped out of the records. Before the gap, the humans are there; afterwards, they're gone. Nothing but mech patrols."

Tali huffed in annoyance. The sound made Jaenn become defensive. "Hey, I'm not a prodigy like you, I'm doing the best I know how!"

 _Damn it._ Tali's annoyance hadn't been with Jaenn, it had been with how thoroughly the security feeds had been edited. Were her subordinates trying to be intractable, or had her social skills been dramatically molded by her time spent aboard a human ship? She decided the best course of action would be to push ahead, and try to show Jaenn that his work had been helpful. "Show me the last minutes before the wiped section."

Jaenn worked the controls until he'd reached the requested segment, and Tali watched the images of the humans walking about. The surveillance camera didn't afford her a good look at the humans' faces, but she couldn't see anything that looked amiss in their body language, except perhaps for a few intoxicated individuals. The segment only had a few seconds left when a lone human entered the camera's field of view. A few steps in he paused, jerked slightly, and looked at his right arm. Suddenly, he flew into a frenzy of motion, slapping at his body – then the video cut off.

"What was that?" The other quarians had noticed it as well.

Jaenn rubbed at the front of his neck seal. "Sorry, I missed that the first time. I increased the play speed to find the missing segment faster."

Tali nodded absently. "That's alright. It's why we check our work. Better yet, get someone else to check it." What had that human been doing? Tali was fairly certain humans didn't dance like that, even while drunk. _Well, maybe Shepard would._ She pushed aside the memories. The human had been striking himself too violently to be removing dust or dirt from his clothes. She'd seen the behavior before, but couldn't remember the context. "Save that last bit Jaenn. It's definitely worth investigating later."

Although they'd found something potentially interesting, the quarians had yet to find their true target: Veetor. Under Tali's direction, the team had crept from house to house, slowly working their way towards Veetor's residence while dodging mech and drone patrols. Occasionally, when a mech would spot them, Tali would quickly wipe its memory of the past few seconds. In doing so, Tali had been able to discover that the mechs had been hacked using a popular quarian method. That hadn't been helpful for the team's morale, knowing that the pilgrim they were trying to rescue had most likely programmed the mechs trying to kill them.

The team had arrived to find Veetor's apartment empty. They'd tried to open a comm link to Veetor's omnitool using the frequency Veetor had reserved when he'd started his pilgrimage. Each departing pilgrim selected an emergency comm frequency for situations like this. Every request Tali's team had sent had been rejected, but the fact that the requests were rejected, rather than unable to establish a connection, meant that Veetor's omnitool, and presumably Veetor, were both still intact somewhere within range. Tali had come up with the idea to check the security feeds for any signs of Veetor's movement, but so far, it seemed as if whoever had wiped the feeds had coincidentally concealed Veetor.

Tali was about to order them to the next house when a thought occurred to her. "Jaenn, wait a moment before you disconnect the line. Can you show me the first section of the video when the mechs appear?"

"Uh, sure." Tali watched as a few mechs marched into the camera's range. Yes…they'd all come down the street from the same direction. After a while, the mechs became visible again, walking in the opposite direction, and even later, they appeared once again. Tali clapped her hands together in excitement.

"Yes! This might work." The rest of the quarians leaned in to see what she was talking about. "These LOKI mechs aren't capable of complex patrol patterns. Look at what direction they first appear from."

Yonna'Xil, one of the only trainees Tali liked, realized it first. "We can follow them backwards to where they came from!"

"Right." Tali felt like she was on track for the first time in days. "Now we only have to check the feeds at each intersection. If we can follow the mechs back to their central control station, we'll probably find Veetor. At worst, if he's not there, then we can shut down all the mechs at once."

The quarians murmured in assent. Tali, feeling generous in her victory, asked Veetor to lead them out, and for once, he readily complied.

* * *

After the Kodiak entered the atmosphere of Freedom's Progress, Shepard had Jacob switch to manual control to bring the shuttle close to the deck, following a spiraling path inwards towards their selected landing zone. From the maps Miranda had provided, it appeared that the affected area of the colony had a primary security center, located in a reinforced warehouse, within which would be housed all of the colony's security footage. Shepard had selected an elevated position in a residential area, roughly two klicks from the target warehouse, as their primary landing site. Should the shuttle take fire or spy major activity on the ground while on approach, they would land at one of several secondary sites farther away from the population center and observe at long range.

During the shuttle ride, Miranda and Jacob had informed Shepard about the eerie nature of the abductions. No bodies, no blood, no bullet holes or explosion craters. Security footage destroyed or edited. When Cerberus had been able to perform a more thorough analysis before the scene was disturbed, they apparently hadn't even found unusual genetic material.

Shepard scanned the buildings below. He hadn't seen any movement on the way in, but that didn't mean it was safe. Any one of those prefab structures could house an ambush, or a trap. Or perhaps they'd get lucky, and find some of the answers which had eluded Cerberus for so long. As the shuttle entered its landing sequence, Shepard stood at one side of the door and readied his rifle.

"You ready?"

"Ready." Miranda drew her pistol from her hip, but her relaxed stance showed that she doubted an attack would be forthcoming. Shepard wondered if the woman had ever learned operational discipline from a proper military. He tried not to worry about it. Jacob was sharp and well-trained, and if he was willing to vouch for Miranda's skills, then that would suffice for now.

The shuttle touched down, and Jacob joined them from the cockpit. "You ready, Commander?"

"Born ready." The door opened, and Shepard took a moment to survey the area before stepping forth. He could feel the chill of the air outside when he breathed in, the cold making it through his helmet's filters. It was a refreshing feeling. Shepard checked the map Miranda had sent to his omnitool. "Alright. Let's move out."

The first building they entered was some sort of restaurant or canteen. Half-eaten trays of food littered the tables, and a few had landed on the floor. Shepard carefully stepped around the fallen trays, noting that forks and spoons lay around each seat, as if a crowd of people had started eating, then dropped their utensils and walked out.

The sight unsettled Jacob. "Looks like everyone just… got up and left right in the middle of dinner."

"Looks like." Despite the situation, Shepard's stomach growled at the thought of food. "Sorry about that."

The sound had the unexpected benefit of relieving the tension. "Feeling those two years without chow, Shepard?"

"Why don't you take point, Jacob?" Jacob laughed, though he kept his shotgun at the low ready as they reached an exit on the far side of the building. At Shepard's signal, Jacob tapped the holographic interface and withdrew to cover his side as the door slid open. The two of them swept the courtyard ahead. Nothing moved, except for a few snowflakes meandering through the still air.

Shepard usually found silent snowfall to be very relaxing, but the strange tableau just behind him made it ominous. Miranda had scanned the area with an omnitool function Shepard had never seen before, and declared nothing out of the ordinary. A forensics team would check for DNA samples later, she said, but there were no signs of a struggle, no unusual EM or particle emissions, no temperature patterns that might indicate a recent presence.

Procedure dictated that Shepard and his team check each structure before passing it on their way to the objective. However, that would consume a lot of time, time during which time-sensitive evidence might degrade. "Miranda, you said that scans of the area detected no human life signs? What sort of scans did you run?"

"Thermal scans showed no signatures except for a few power generators. Also, there were no omnitool handshakes when we tried to poll the local networks on frequencies common to colonies in the Terminus. Normally, it'd be child's play to hack into their security network, but…" Miranda screwed up her eyes in concentration as she worked on her omnitool. "Something has locked us out." She paused and looked at Shepard. "That's a first. Every colony up until now has been left completely open, as if nothing's wrong."

"Hm." Geth and, Shepard assumed, mechs, would not show up well on thermal scans. However, mechs were too dumb to work so cleanly, and geth had never seemed concerned about avoiding responsibility for their actions. If the scans didn't pick up any life signs… "Ok. We're going to pick up the pace. We're probably not gong to find anything new until we reach the security center, and figure out what sent it into lockdown." Jacob nodded in the affirmative. "Jacob and I will go in front out. Miranda, you keep checking for anything out of the ordinary." Until he had a better idea of her combat proficiency, he didn't want her in the front ranks. "If you spot anything you want to investigate more closely, let us know."

"Understood, Commander."

"Keep spacing at a few paces. Jacob, lead out."

"Copy."

They moved forward, sticking to the edge of open spaces, sweeping windows and doors as they passed. Kinetic barriers allowed infantry to make more aggressive plays without being wounded by the first ordinary bullet to fly their way. However, Alliance training still heavily favored the use of cover, as the kinetic barrier was a relatively new addition to the human arsenal. If that wasn't enough, Shepard had seen firsthand how little difference kinetic barriers could make to a soldier caught in the open, as Jenkins had been.

The team filed through an archway leading to another section of the colony when Shepard heard a low, electronic growl. "FENRIS mechs!" Jacob's shotgun fired towards a staircase leading up to a cluster of prefabs. Shepard turned to see a pack a mechs, shaped somewhat like dogs, come bounding out of cover. These new mechs were of the same construction and coloration as the LOKI model, which Shepard had been told was the type of mech he'd fought on Lazarus Station. However, the FENRIS appeared have only close-range functionality, as the pack charged Jacob's position even as he blew one away with two blasts of his shotgun. Something else the mechs had was an enormous, glowing faceplate, which provided a great target as Shepard opened up with his Mattock. His new rifle performed beautifully, each FENRIS requiring only two or three shots before going down. Two more mechs fell. The last mech reeled as a biotic field seemed to push all the surrounding air into its body, and the telltale feeling of biotics behind Shepard informed him that Miranda had joined the fight. Jacob finished off the struggling mech with his shotgun.

"Nice warp." To be honest, Shepard had no idea whether the warp had been strong or weak, but it was good to see she would be useful in combat.

Their respite was brief. "More on the way!" Jacob called, as LOKI mechs came through the door of a building on the far side of a canal. The mechs opened fire immediately, but at that distance only a fraction of their shots came anywhere near Shepard. Jacob biotically pulled one of the mechs off its perch and into the water below as Shepard sighted in on another's head and squeezed the trigger. The now headless mech crumpled, and Shepard repeated the process once more as Miranda launched a tech dart from her omnitool at the last standing mech. It flopped forwards, providing Jacob the opportunity to blow it to pieces with his shotgun.

The team remained still, listening for any more surprises. When several seconds had passed and none came, Jacob spoke up. "Those mechs shouldn't have been hostile. They should have recognized us as human."

"Someone reprogrammed them to attack on sight." Miranda declared. "We're not alone here."

"Could be. Maybe whoever took the colonists decided to leave behind a nasty present, to slow down people like us." Shepard considered the best course of action. "Let's take it fast, but through the buildings. Don't want to get pinned down in the open."

As they progressed from room to room, prefab to prefab, Shepard saw more abandoned artifacts of human life. Active vid screens, open terminals, a running sink, a children's bunk bed with tousled covers. Many doors had been left open, allowing the cold air outside to permeate the residences. One prefab even had a half-open safe in it, and Shepard had to resist the instinct to pilfer it. He'd left that life behind long ago. Shepard wondered if Jacob and Miranda were affected by the sights, but reminded himself that they'd been through this before. Miranda, certainly, seemed to treat it as routine, scanning various objects and typing with her omnitool.

Suddenly, at the doorway leading out of the current prefab, Jacob motioned for Shepard and Miranda to stop. Shepard froze, and watched Jacob raise a finger to his lips, then beckon him forward. He and Miranda crept to the other side of the doorway. Jacob signaled – hostiles, five visible. Shepard leaned forward just enough to look outside. There, on the street which separated the humans from the next prefab in their route, walked two FENRIS mechs. Three LOKI mechs, currently in hibernation mode, huddled in various locations to the left and right.

Shepard thought for a moment. Each person could take down a LOKI before they had the chance to deploy, but then the FENRISs would have time to charge into their prefab. Shepard didn't know what the FENRIS was packing for melee encounters, but after attempting to kick a LOKI, he wasn't keen on finding out. "Dogs first," he whispered, "Then the rest."

Jacob stepped out of cover and took down one of the dogs with his shotgun. Before the other could turn to face the threat, it found itself floating off the ground helplessly, unable to run from the next shotgun blast that came its way. In the meantime, Shepard peppered the two nearest LOKI mechs with rifle rounds, the powerful DMR blowing satisfying chunks from their armor. Miranda disabled the last LOKI with an overload dart, then put two pistol rounds into its head as it lay helpless on the ground. Once again, the team waited for anything else to appear.

"Jacob, check that side of the street. Clear?"

"Clear."  
"Clear on this side."

"Crossing over." When Jacob made it to the other side, he signaled for Shepard and Miranda to follow. They went up the small flight of stairs leading into the next building and took up positions by the door.

* * *

Tali's team were studying the terminal, discussing a way to reach Veetor through the drone patrols, when Prazza jerked his head back. "Did you hear that?" The quarians fell silent, straining their tympanic membranes. A moment later, the faint report of weapons fire – the crack of a rifle, the booming of a shotgun – filtered through the walls of the house. "You all heard that right?" They continued to listen, but the silence had settled back in.

Tali had heard. Some of the noise could not have been made by the mechs' machine pistols. Had humans arrived to investigate their colony? Or were they Terminus scavengers, willing to brave the false message about a reactor incident? Maybe the rampaging mechs had finally found colonists hiding somewhere? None of these possibilities appealed to her. "We need to hurry this up." The scum of the Terminus had learned not to take the Flotilla lightly, but several quarians, barely past pilgrimage, made an easy target. Tali also doubted that any humans, colonists or otherwise, would look charitably on quarians going uninvited through houses and hacking electronics. "Prazza, pick two people and form a rearguard team. Stay close, but make sure nothing sneaks up on us." Tali looked at the surveillance feed, then checked the map of the colony on her omnitool. The quarians had identified the most likely location of the security center as a warehouse set in the middle of a small clearing. "See this building?" She pointed it out to her team. "This is as close as we can get to Veetor without running into more drones. We'll head there, then we'll figure out how to break through to the warehouse. Hopefully, the higher volume of patrols in that area will scare off anyone trying to follow us."

After they'd made it to the target building, Tali left Jaenn in the entryway with Prazza's squad to hack into surveillance. She and the other five quarians of her team went to clear the rest of the building in pairs. As Tali walked with Yonna towards the far end of the structure, careful to watch the windows for drone activity, she couldn't help but wonder at how much living space these humans enjoyed. The kitchen, the living area with a vid screen, and the number of beds indicated that the entire house belonged to a single family unit. This was a small, hardscrabble colony on the fringe of the Terminus, yet this unknown family had a more luxurious dwelling than the Captains of the Flotilla.

She squashed her jealousy and focused on the task at hand. According to her map, the windows at the back of the house should afford her and Yonna a view of the target building. However, when the two of them looked out over the roofs, which marched downwards in elevation, they saw a large wall of sunbleached concrete where the warehouse should have been. "That's not right" Tali muttered to herself, bringing up the map on her omnitool. Yes, she was facing in the correct direction, and the warehouse – ah, so that's what that was.

"Did you figure it out?" asked Yonna.

"Yes. The loading dock for the warehouses is surrounded by that wall. The humans probably built it so you couldn't just walk up to their security center." Tali would most likely have to hack one of the doors through the wall to get the team into the dock. Child's play. She considered assigning the work to one of her charges, but decided against it. If Jaenn could find a safe route through the mechs, then the team would want to move as quickly as possible.

The two quarians silently watched out the window for any sign of movement. After a minute of this, Yonna sighed. "Do you think Veetor'Nara will be alright? He's never been –"

Gunfire erupted behind them. Tali'Zorah spun around and headed back towards the entryway, Yonna close on her heels. She drew her shotgun and began to prime Chatika for deployment, mind furiously processing. The gunfire had been just outside the house; once again, rifle and shotgun blasts ringing out above the chatter of pistols. Someone had gotten into a fight with mechs just outside, then. Was it coincidence, or were the quarians being trailed? Right as she reached the entryway, she saw the door open.

Prazza, to his credit, had placed himself and his team between the entrance and Jaenn, and a glimpse of the weapons levelled their way convinced the armored figures outside to dart into cover on either side of the door.

"Stop right there!"

"Contact!"

Prazza's command and the shout from outside had overlapped, but now Tali knew that at least one of the figures was a human. She offered a silent thanks to the ancestors that no one had opened fire yet.

"You mind telling us who you are?" A small part of Tali noted how similar this human sounded to Shepard. Hopefully, he'd be just as reasonable as Shepard had been, but that wasn't likely in the Terminus.

"You first, human" Tali called. She noticed Jaenn shaking slightly, his eyes darting between her and the doorway. She gave him a slight nod, then refocused down the sights of her shotgun.

"Em… We're here to find out what happened to the colonists. How about you?"

Tali debated how to respond. Quarians were encouraged to keep their missions private when outside the Flotilla, for any number of personal safety and fleet safety reasons. However, in circumstances like these, if she said nothing, the human would likely assume that the quarians were stealing from the colony. "We're here to rescue one of our pilgrims. We're fairly certain he's still here."

"Does he know what happened here?"

"We don't know. We haven't been able to contact him."

"Do you know where he is?"

"…Yes."

The human at the door conferred with his team. Tali couldn't make out what they were saying, but she could distinguish three distinct human voices – two male, one female.

Prazza glanced at Tali, keeping his rifle aimed at the door. "Is it a good idea to tell them anything? We still don't know who they are."

"If they meant us harm," Tali began, trying to convince herself as much as Prazza, "they could have done so by now."

The female outside raised her voice slightly, and both Tali and Prazza fell silent, trying to catch her words. Her outburst died quickly, though, and it appeared the humans had finished their discussion.

"If we help you find your pilgrim, can we ask him what happened here?" Tali blinked. She hadn't expected the humans to offer cooperation, though it might be a logical choice given their stated mission. However, were the humans telling the truth?

Tali's team wouldn't make it to Veetor safely if they had to leave some of their number in a stalemate with these humans. _You cannot lead without accepting risk._ She lowered her shotgun, squared her shoulders, and walked towards the door.

"Wha-"

"Follow my lead, Prazza." She stood between Prazza's squad and the doorway, and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'm the leader of this team. I'm willing to discuss cooperation, if you are. My name is Tali'Zorah."

One of the humans poked his helmet out. It didn't match any human designs Tali was familiar with, especially with its large, opaque faceplate. "Tali'Zorah? Tali'Zorah nar Rayya?"

 _What?_ Behind her, a murmur passed through the assembled quarians. "How do you know my name?"

The human stepped out in front of her. "It's me, Tali." He reached up and unlatched his helmet. "It's Shepard."

Tali'Zorah stared into the eyes of a ghost.


	4. Chapter 4

Hey Readers, welcome to the 4th Chapter! Sorry about the lengthy write time, went on vacation then had a bit of writer's block.

I appreciate your viewership and am excited to receive my first ever favs and follows! However, what would excite me even more is **reviews**!

Things you liked, things you didn't like, things which didn't make sense or were inconsistent with ME lore, questions you have - all of your feedback helps me write a better story, and fix errors I might have made in previous chapters. Along with this update, for instance, I fixed two issues in CH3 which I hadn't noticed until I wrote CH4. If any of you are lurkers who are reading this, making an account so you can leave reviews only takes a moment.

As a heads up, I do occasionally tinker with the lore to deal with things I found too inconsistent to explain away. One example is thermal clips: in this universe, the majority of Council and Alliance weapons have always used thermal clips. Some weapons use a cooling system, such as geth rifles (which have a high ROF but small projectiles), but the tech is considered experimental and exotic.

Another example is quarians: they do not look like photo-shopped humans. More specifics will be revealed in later chapters, in a (hopefully) natural exposition.

That's my spiel for now. Enjoy CH4!

* * *

Shepard couldn't believe his luck. Out here in Terminus space, on a remote human colony, two years after he had apparently died, he had managed to run into a member of his ground team. The odds had to be astronomical. So astronomical, in fact, that Shepard's elation was quickly smothered by suspicion. Could it really be coincidence that Cerberus had sent him to a colony with one of his former crew? And if this meeting had been planned, what would Cerberus gain by providing Shepard a link back to his previous life? 'Previous life'. Having to think in such terms felt very odd.

As the seconds ticked by, Shepard realized that Tali might need help getting over the shock of his reappearance. Her eyes were round, luminous globes, and her shotgun looked ready to fall from her slack grip. "It's… been a while, I guess. How are you doing?" Shepard mentally kicked himself for the lame greeting, but what prescribed method was there to approach a situation like this? Leading with 'I'm back from the dead thanks to Cerberus' would just create a dozen new questions. Better, perhaps, to start simple, and work their way through matters slowly.

"You're alive?" Well, Tali was able to speak again, albeit barely. Shepard considered how to explain a story that he himself had trouble believing. He'd purposefully deflected from giving his name, at least before he knew he had been speaking with Tali, to avoid having to explain his resurrection. Without the medical details of Project Lazarus to back up the story, Shepard could be called out for lying with no way to defend himself. Miranda knew Project Lazarus inside and out, but after running into the quarians, she'd made clear during the humans' brief huddle outside the doors how she felt about involving anyone else in 'Cerberus matters'.

Before Shepard could decide what to say next, one of the male quarians hissed, and raised his weapon to a target behind Shepard.

"Cerberus!" In an instant, the quarian squad had retrained their weapons upon the new threat. Shepard twisted his head to look. _Damn it, I knew I was going to regret letting Miranda display that logo._ Miranda and Jacob must have grown curious about Shepard and Tali's quiet conversation and extended themselves from cover enough for the quarians to see Miranda's armor. However, the venom in the quarian's voice was surprising. Cerberus was an in-house human problem, or so Shepard had assumed; how had Cerberus managed to antagonize the reclusive quarians?

Shepard turned back to find the trembling barrel of a shotgun a few centimeters from his nose. At the other end of the shotgun's sights, he could see two narrow slits glowing behind Tali's faceplate.

"…what sort of Cerberus _freak_ are you? Shepard would _never_ join Cerberus." The end of the shotgun was inside Shepard's kinetic barriers. He could try to initiate CQC, but then he and Tali would be in the firing lines of their respective squads. "How _dare_ you wear his face." Tali's outrage on his behalf was heartwarming, but it was going to get one or both of them killed. Shepard didn't know Miranda and Jacob well enough to predict how they would react, and the quarians seemed quite willing to open fire. "What the hell is this about?"

"Tali," began Shepard, forcing his arms to remain still at his sides, "I can prove it's me."

"Shut up!" The shotgun bobbed up and down with her exclamation.

"…the geth data I gave you. Did it help you finish your pilgrimage?" The shotgun barrel froze. Tali's eyes widened, then narrowed again.

"How do you know about that?"

"Because I'm the real Shepard." Giving Tali the geth data was the most private moment they'd had, as far as he could remember. He had denied her original request in Engineering, then asked for her help fixing control interfaces in the Mako. Once inside the vehicle, away from the Normandy's internal surveillance, he had slipped her the disc with the geth data on it and told her to make a copy, so long as she covered her tracks. "Ask me anything you want." Shepard hoped the rest of his memories were as clear.

There was a pause. The quarian squad shifted restlessly, and while he couldn't see them, Shepard was sure that Miranda and Jacob hovered at the doorway behind him, guns at the ready.

Tali's eyes flickered back and forth across Shepard's face. The implants itched as her gaze crossed them; perhaps Tali was remembering a conversation about cybernetics, and Shepard's total lack thereof. For what it was worth, she hadn't shot him yet, and the gears seemed to be turning in her head. "…What are you doing here?"

Shepard chose to answer the narrowest interpretation of the question. "I'm here to investigate the missing colonists. As I stated before."

"No, Shepard, that's not what I – damn it!" The shotgun wavered.

"I know, Tali." Her use of his name indicated that the mention of the geth data was having the desired effect. "It might be better to discuss this without everyone about to shoot each other."

Tali stared at him again. The shotgun dipped, then finally dropped. "Fine."

Relieved, Shepard called out to the Cerberus operatives. "Weapons down, people. We're gonna talk this out."

"Weapons down." When some of the quarians failed to comply, a note of irritation entered Tali's voice. "Put those weapons down!"

"I'm not taking any chances with Cerberus operatives!" The quarian – Prazza, Shepard assumed – edged around Tali, trying to keep his assault rifle aimed at Shepard, but Tali seized the barrel and pulled it to the size.

"Prazza, weapons down. This… is Commander Shepard." The words came out mechanically, like she had been forced to say them. Tali wasn't fully convinced then. Disappointing as it was, Shepard reminded himself that under the circumstances, disbelief and suspicion were nowhere near the worst reactions he could have received.

"Why is your old captain working for Cerberus?"

"I don't know." Tali turned back to fix Shepard with another stare. "Maybe we should ask." All eyes were on Shepard now. No more beating around the bush.

"When the Normandy was destroyed… I died. So far as I know." The words still sounded ludicrous to Shepard's ears. "From what I've been told, Cerberus recovered my body and spent the last two years…" Shepard couldn't decide on a good term. "…rebuilding me."

Prazza scoffed. "Likely story. No organization would commit so many resources to bring back one soldier."

Shepard took it as a victory that the quarian hadn't dismissed the entirety of the story out of hand. "I don't get it either. Miranda – " Shepard indicated the operative, who had taken up a position to Shepard's back and right, " – is the person who led the team that brought me back. If you want the details, I suggest you ask her. I just woke up a few hours ago." Shepard could feel Miranda frowning at the back of his head, but after dealing with her attitude, he felt no guilt at putting her on the spot. Her mistake for letting slip that she didn't want to deal with anyone outside the mission parameters.

Tali didn't take the bait. "What does Cerberus want with you?"

"The Illusive Man asked me to investigate attacks on human colonies. According to him, hundreds of thousands of colonists have disappeared, much like here on Freedom's Progress."

"You've spoken with the Illusive Man?"

"Not face to face." Upon reflection, the condition did little to help the story's plausibility. The _Illusive_ Man probably hadn't gotten his name by being easy to find, and here Shepard was, name-dropping him like it was nothing. "He didn't paint a pretty picture. He said that the Alliance and the Council aren't dealing with the colony attacks, and even worse, they're in full denial of the Reaper threat." Shepard clung to a scrap of hope as he asked, "Is what he said true, Tali?"

Tali's eyes dropped for a moment, her fingers kneading the grips on her shotgun. It looked like Shepard had his answer. "I see." So, the Illusive Man hadn't been lying. A weight settled in Shepard's stomach as he considered the ramifications. As the Illusive Man had implied, Shepard had two options: return to an unhelpful Alliance and Council who might not even want him back, or continue to work against the Reapers under a Cerberus banner. He looked up at the ceiling and sighed. No doubt the Illusive Man knew ahead of time what Shepard's only choice could be.

Shepard tilted his head back down to meet Tali's gaze. "Looks like I'm stuck with Cerberus." The light on Tali's helmet turned on, as if she were about to speak, but no words came forth. She understood Shepard's situation as well, then.

Shepard turned to Jacob, who had taken up Shepard's flank opposite Miranda. "Jacob, close that door so no more mechs can follow us in here." Disappearing colonists was a problem that should transcend factions and politics, so for the time being, Shepard would play to the Illusive Man's tune. "Tali, you said that your team was here to find one of your pilgrims?"

"Right." Tali took a deep breath before continuing, voice growing stronger as she re-entered familiar territory. "His name is Veetor. He chose to carry out his pilgrimage here."

Shepard recalled Tali's explanations of pilgrimage. "Why would Veetor come out to a remote human colony? There isn't much here that he could turn into a pilgrimage gift, is there?"

"No, but Veetor liked the idea of helping a small settlement. He was always… nervous in crowds."

Prazza cut in. "She means that he was unstable. Whatever happened here must have sent him over the edge."

"You know he's here, though? Alive?" An unstable witness was better than no witness at all.

"Yes." Tali broke off the glare she'd been giving Prazza since he interrupted her. "We think he's hidden in the warehouse with the security center for the mechs. He's probably the one who reprogrammed them to attack anything that moves."

"Our goal is the security center as well. We need to see if surveillance caught what happened here."

"Maybe it did, but we tapped a lot of individual cameras on our way here, trying to see where Veetor went." Tali waved her hand at the terminal the quarians had been huddled around. "Each one has had several hours of footage wiped from it. Nothing seems out of place in the parts that remain."

That seemed plausible enough. If the culprit behind the kidnappings could be identified simply by looking at security footage, Cerberus would have done so by now. "Jacob, did the same sort of thing happen at the other missing colonies?"

"Yup. Any sort of monitoring or surveillance had a big chunk missing from the logs. And whoever did it knew how to cover their tracks."

"That means Veetor's the only one who might know what happened here." In a sense, the mission hadn't changed. They still needed to reach the security station where the quarian was likely holed up. In this context, Tali's team could be a major asset, both for their additional firepower and for their ability to deal with Veetor. If the quarian was as unstable as Prazza claimed, he might do something drastic, such as committing suicide, if three unfamiliar humans came after him. "We should work together to find him."

Tali's eyes danced between Shepard, Jacob, and Miranda. "Ok," she said, hesitantly, "We could use more people to get past the drones, anyway."

"Now we're working with Cerberus?" Prazza's protest seemed to have touched a nerve as Tali rounded on him.

"No, Prazza, you're working for me. If you can't follow orders, go wait on the ship." Shepard couldn't help but be amused by her snappy response. He still remembered Tali from the SR1: timid, jumpy, excitable. Never bossy, except for a few instances when she'd been in the middle of maintenance and therefore, Shepard had assumed, too busy to maintain decorum. Easy to forget that two years had passed when it felt like yesterday.

Tali turned back to Shepard. "It would probably be best if we took two separate routes to the warehouse. We'll take the route out the back of the house." Tali's team began to file out, unwilling to take their eyes off the humans. "There's another route if you leave out the side. Hopefully we can divide the drones."

Shepard nodded as he put his helmet back on. "Good idea. Here," he raised his omnitool, "lets keep in radio contact."

"Will do." With the link established, Tali gave him one last look. "Shepard, whatever happens… it's good to have you back."

* * *

Tali uttered a string of khelish curses between breaths as she tore down the street, Yonna hot on her heels. After Tali had left Shepard, calmed her nerves, and walked to the back of the house, she had found Yonna, and _only_ Yonna, wringing her hands next to an open door. A few stammered words were all that was needed for Tali to realize what Prazza and the rest of the quarians had done. Now, here she was, forced to chase her own team through an area filled with hostile machines.

Damn Prazza. Damn him, damn the fools who followed him, and damn this mission for growing crazier and crazier. Damn Yonna for not putting up a fight, or warning Tali, damn this colony for being so creepily empty, damn Cerberus for showing up and complicating everything, and damn Shepard. Damn Shepard for reappearing, after everyone thought he'd been dead for _two years_ , and damn him for asking how Tali was doing, like he was just making the rounds on the Normandy. On top of all this, she'd had to stomach the fact that Shepard was working with Cerberus willingly, despite his enthusiastic previous attempts to demolish the terrorists' operations.

It was too much to process, and Prazza's insubordination – no, _betrayal_ – destroyed any chance for Tali to get her thoughts in order. If the bosh'tet had any real respect for her command, he should have spoken his Cerberus concerns to Tali's faceplate, instead of going around her back to the rest of the team. Hell, this probably wasn't even about Cerberus. The organization might have earned the ire of the entire Migrant Fleet by attacking civilians, but no one on this team had a direct connection to the Idenna, which made it unlikely that this mutiny was driven by some patriotic upswell. No, this was about bucking authority, and if Prazza's idiocy got anyone on the team hurt, Tali was going to make sure he spent a full circuit working in waste recycling.

The street ahead had been cleared, several mech and drone corpses smoldering on the ground and the rooftops. A LOKI mech, one leg missing, crawled into Tali's path as she ran and received a shotgun blast for its trouble. Behind her, Tali could hear Yonna's heavy breathing. She couldn't be mad at the girl, not truly – she hadn't left with Prazza's group, and she was the only member of the team who hadn't been a total wrinkle in Tali's suit – but that didn't mean Tali could slow down. The eight errant quarians had cut off communications, which meant that Tali would have to physically catch them if she hoped to regain control of the situation. Though Prazza's group appeared to be doing well for now, that could change very quickly as they approached Veetor's assumed hiding location. If Veetor had indeed reprogrammed the mechs to try and protect himself, the heaviest defenses were likely to be found in his immediate vicinity.

A new, unpleasant thought occurred to Tali. Would Prazza's team engage Shepard's team if the opportunity arose? The quarian team outnumbered the human team by over three-to-one, but the latter was composed of two Cerberus operatives and, well, Shepard. Was it truly Shepard? Aside from the cybernetics and the armor, everything that Tali had seen and heard led her to believe that she was dealing with the genuine article. She couldn't be sure, though – his story was so outlandish – could she be too eager to believe that he was alive? Tali needed time, information, none of which she could gather while chasing a bunch of trigger-happy morons. If she couldn't rein them in, they might find themselves on the receiving end of Shepard's tactical expertise, and that… Tali wanted them punished, not dead.

Should she tell the humans what had happened? It might spur them to rush ahead and seize Veetor, and having lost their trust, what would Tali have to negotiate Veetor's return? Shepard had always been reasonable and understanding, but was he in charge, or was Cerberus? Shepard would never place himself at the absolute beck and call of terrorists like Cerberus – It all came back to whether this was the real Shepard, the Shepard she trusted and admired.

Tali reached an intersection just in time to see the backs of two other quarians disappear behind a prefab a few blocks away. "WAIT! Dammit!" Tali made up her mind. "Shepard," she called into her omnitool, "Prazza and several others rushed on ahead. They won't listen to me. They want to find Veetor and take him away before you get here." Yonna pulled up behind her, placing her hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath.

"Copy." Tali couldn't tell if Shepard was upset or not. After a few seconds, his voice crackled over the radio again. "We'll keep heading for the warehouse. Try to regain control of your team. We won't start a fight with them, Tali, but we need to know if Veetor saw what happened to the colonists." Relief, and a bit of shame, came over her at his response. How was it that Shepard could keep five different species together through the most deadly of battles, while Tali couldn't maintain command over her own people? That the failure had happened in front of Shepard made it worse.

Tali checked Yonna, then the street ahead. No mechs visible. The pair ran over to the edge of the building where Tali had seen the other quarians, where an alley ran down to the loading bay walls. There, she saw Prazza and the other quarians huddled near the console of a large door.

"PRAZZA, YOU STOP THERE THIS INSTANT!" Tali's yelling got their attention, but before she'd made more than a few steps toward them, the door's lock disengaged and the group ran through. Jaenn's handiwork, Tali guessed, as her legs pumped furiously. She couldn't see where the other quarians had gone in the loading bay; somewhere to the left based on the layout. However, as she approached the door, yelling, then screaming, began to emanate from inside the walls. _Oh no._ Fighting the lurch in her stomach, she pushed herself to run even faster over the last few dozen meters. Now Tali could hear the bass rumble of a heavy chaingun among the quarian voices. _Oh shit!_ She skidded on a thin layer of snow as she reached the entrance of the loading bay and barely managed to right herself before she looked up.

Jaenn lay motionless in a puddle of blood at the base of a ramp leading up into the warehouse. In the open, the rest of Prazza's squad tried in vain to take cover against their foe: a YMIR heavy mech. The mech, standing at a corner of the warehouse on the far side of the area, was methodically shredding its way through the few crates the quarians could huddle behind. There were two smaller structures – guard stations, maybe – flanking the warehouse on either side of the loading bay. They looked sturdy enough to withstand the mech's fire, but if the quarians tried to make a break for the building nearest Tali, the mech would kill some or all of them before they could cover the distance.

Tali frantically worked her omnitool as she ran for the nearest structure. "Shepard, we're inside the loading docks. Veetor reprogrammed a heavy mech! It's tearing Prazza's people apart!" Was this?... _yes_ , it was a security station. She found a terminal near the windows overlooking the loading bay and began to work on it, praying that she'd found the right one. "I'm opening all the loading bay doors now. Please, hurry!" This terminal had what she needed, but in the time it took her to find the command to open the doors, three quarians had their cover destroyed and their bodies riddled with heavy mass-accelerator rounds. Tali couldn't watch; she needed to finish this and get Shepard's squad access to the loading bay. The rocket launcher she'd seen on the dark-skinned human's back would make short work of the YMIR, as long as Tali could get them inside.

 _There!_ Tali sent the command and watched the doors around the loading bay open. The remaining four quarians chose that moment to make their break as their cover fell apart, two of them heading towards her. The mech extended one arm, sending a rocket streaking towards the fleeing pair as Tali returned to the door of the security station to yell a warning. The rocket fell short, but the explosion blew the quarians a few meters forward to where they lay, moving feebly. Tali rushed forward and seized the nearest one under the shoulders, dragging him into the relative safety of the security station. Yonna, whom Tali had nearly forgotten in the chaos, brought the other girl back as well.

The last two quarians didn't make it far before the chainguns cut through them. As Tali and Yonna began to assess the wounds of their charges, they had to watch as the mech reduced their squadmates' elegant envirosuits into gory piles. Tali felt any enmity against the mutineers leave her as they fell – only regret that they'd paid such a steep price for their foolishness.

Regret turned to alarm as the YMIR surveyed the area for more targets, but before it had time to figure out where Tali and Yonna were, Shepard and the two Cerberus operatives stormed into the loading bay. They paused for a moment behind crates – Shepard surveying the battlefield, Tali guessed – then they burst into action. Shepard charged towards the building opposite the security station as the other humans fired on the mech. When the YMIR began to chip away at the operatives' flimsy cover, Shepard stood in the doorway of the building he'd run to and emptied his rifle into the mech's shields. The mech, seeing an exposed target, ponderously turned to face him, at which moment the female human launched a tech dart into the lightly armored side of a knee joint. The YMIR shrugged off the dart, but the moment of hesitation let Shepard slip into the building untouched, where Tali assumed he'd reloaded because a moment later, the windows blew out from a storm of rifle shots as the mech tried to reacquire the Cerberus operatives. The spark of bullets on armor revealed that the mech's kinetic barriers had finally been pierced. Tracking the once-again exposed Commander, the mech presented its side to the dark-skinned human, who by now had readied his rocket launcher. The first rocket blew apart the YMIR's hip, totally separating one of its legs and causing its massive torso to slam into the ground. A few seconds later, as the mech struggled to push itself upright, a second rocket tore through its chest cavity.

The battlefield fell silent and still for several moments before Shepard emerged from the structure to regroup with the Cerberus operatives. They conferred, voices too quiet for Tali to hear over the moaning of the two quarians she and Yonna were tending to. The Cerberus woman pointed at the warehouse, but Shepard had already left them and said something over his shoulder as he jogged towards the security station.

* * *

"You alright Tali?"

It was another weak greeting, especially when Shepard entered the prefab and saw the state of Tali's remaining team members. Tali and another female, who watched him with round eyes as he approached, appeared unhurt, but the two quarians they were administering aid to had been peppered by shrapnel. Since they'd been caught by a rocket, it would be logical to assume they had overpressure injuries as well. At least they'd fared better than their dead compatriots outside.

"I'm fine, Shepard." Tali's hands were a blur as she worked on what appeared to be the worst case. Shepard noticed that her aid focused as much on the suit's seals as on the injuries themselves. Not too much of a surprise, considering how dangerous Tali had described suit breaches to be.

"Here." Shepard held out several medigel packets. "Will these help?"

Tali gave them a cursory glance. "Yes. Yonna, take them and spread medigel on the wounds. If you can coat the entire breached area, that's even better."

Shepard watched them work for a little longer. He'd hoped to have a long conversation with Tali about… well, about everything, basically. However, he wasn't about to interrupt emergency medical treatment to satisfy his curiosity. "Should we go get Veetor?"

"Yes." When Shepard did not immediately depart, Tali looked up at him and added, "We'll be alright here. Find Veetor and shut down security. I'll join you in a moment."

Shepard nodded and returned to the Cerberus operatives. Miranda had an eyebrow raised as he came close. "Tali's giving medical treatment to the others, but she told us to go ahead."

"And if she hadn't given her permission?" Miranda appeared confident enough to mouth off a bit, thanks to the vindication of her concerns about involving the quarians. Shepard graced her with a noncommittal shrug.

"Hopefully there isn't another YMIR hiding in the warehouse. C'mon." The three humans formed up on the warehouse door. "Be extremely careful with your fire. We don't want to hit Veetor."

"We should stick to our pistols."

"Good idea Jacob." Shepard drew his Phalanx and examined the door's interface. "Miranda, can you get through this lock?"

Miranda stepped forward with her omnitool raised. "Yes, this is basic encryption. Should only take a moment… done."

"Okay." Miranda took up position behind Jacob. "Opening the door."

The inside of the warehouse was dark, lit only by the orange glow of several terminal screens on the back wall. Despite the building's size, the plethora of crates, servers, and other miscellaneous machinery piled against the walls managed to make the space feel claustrophobic. Visibility was poor, but after a few seconds of looking into the room without hearing the synthesized bleating of mech VIs, Shepard ventured inside, followed by Jacob and Miranda.

Indistinct mumbling began to reach Shepard's ears as he headed towards the screens and the chair sitting before them. A huddled form rocked back and forth, quiet strings of – was that khelish? – occasionally being picked up by Shepard's translation module. "Monsters…mechs…swarms…no-no-no…"

"Veetor?"

"No Veetor. Not here. Swarms can't find. Monsters coming. Have to hide." Well then, either the quarian had really gone off the deep end, or he'd seen something terrible happen to the colonists.

"Veetor, you're safe now. We've come to help." The quarian refused to respond, tapping away resolutely at a console.

Jacob gave him a pitying look. "I don't think he can hear you, Commander."

Miranda sighed and activated her omnitool. A moment later, Veetor's screens switched to static. Shepard considered telling her off for the sudden move, but it had appeared to have the desired effect. Veetor froze as the screens went dark, then turned and stood as if he hadn't noticed the humans before.

"You're human. Where did you hide? How come they didn't find you?"

"Who didn't find us?" Shepard guessed that Miranda, after leading so many dead-end investigations, was especially eager to find out what Veetor knew.

"The… the monsters. The swarms. They took everyone."

Shepard needed something a bit more concrete. "We aren't colonists, Veetor. We just got here."

Veetor bobbed his head. "You don't know. You didn't see." He turned back to his console and began to work his omnitool. "But I see everything." The screens flickered back to life, showing a street of the colony.

"Did he piece together the missing security footage?"

"I don't know, Miranda. I don't see a timestamp. Wait, what are those things in the houses?" Dark shapes moved behind the windows of the prefabs in the security camera's view, and small winged forms danced crazily through the air. Eventually, one of the prefabs opened its doors and out came a procession of… pods?

"What the hell is that?" Jacob pointed to a humanoid figure escorting one of the pods. Veetor helpfully paused the footage as the humans stepped in for a closer look.

"My god," said Miranda, "I think it's a Collector." The creature was roughly humanoid, bipedal, and appeared to be of around the same height as the Council races. However, it also had an extremely large head in proportion to its body, and its dark brown flesh had a combination of smooth curves and sharp edges that implied a hard exoskeleton. The strange thinness of the Collector's limbs precluded the possibility that some other race had donned a disguise.

"You've seen this thing before?"

"They're a species from somewhere beyond the Omega 4 relay. Only a few people have ever seen one in person." When Jacob noticed Shepard's questioning look, he elaborated. "As far as we know, they've never been spotted in Council space. Only in the Terminus. Even out here, they're so rare that a lot of people don't think they exist."

The security footage began to roll again, following the camera as it panned over the area. "They usually work through intermediaries, like slavers or hired mercenaries," Miranda added. "If they're involved with the Reapers somehow, it could explain what happened to the colonies." Through the open door of another prefab, Shepard spotted a pair of Collectors loading a human, alive or dead he couldn't tell, into one of those pods.

"What work do they hire the intermediaries for?"

"Getting slaves usually." Well, Shepard could add that to his recently created list of 'Why I dislike Collectors'. "The Collectors barter with advanced technology. They could have a weapon that disables an entire settlement at once."

Veetor spoke for the first time since he'd turned on the security footage. "The seeker swarms." He pointed to a cloud of what appeared to be insects. "No one can hide. The seekers find you. Freeze you. Then the monsters take you away." The camera finished panning to show an intersection at the end of the street, where a great number of pods and Collectors had congregated.

"Hm." Releasing a swarm of these 'seekers' could saturate a colony just as effectively as a gas attack, minus the chemical residue. Miniature probes, perhaps? Or engineered lifeforms. "How did you manage to escape?"

"Swarms didn't find me. Monsters didn't know I was here."

"The Collectors aren't known for being careless," stated Jacob. "Maybe his envirosuit kept him from showing up on their sensors. Our guys didn't pick up the quarian team during their scans of the colony."

"Or," interjected Miranda, "they were using technology specifically designed to detect humans. Only human colonies have been hit." That last point seemed likely, given how thorough the Collectors appeared to be.

"Veetor, where did the Collectors take the colonists?"

"The monsters took the people onto the ship, and then they left. The ship flew away. But they'll be back for me. No one escapes!" So, the Collectors were able to fit hundreds of thousands of people, and themselves, and their swarms, and whatever the hell else they needed, onto a single vessel? A vessel that could land on a planet safely, then take off again? Those capabilities reminded Shepard of a certain cephalopodic enemy of his.

"Veetor, can you show us the Collector ship?" The quarian had lapsed back into muttering, however. "Veetor?"

Jacob gave Shepard a sympathetic look. "I think that's probably all we're getting out of him, Commander."

Shepard suppressed his disappointment. "Veetor, we appreciate what you told us. You were very helpful."

"Oh!" The encouraging words appeared to have a positive effect. "I studied them. The monsters. The swarms. I recorded them with my omnitool. Lots of readings."

In her excitement, Miranda seemed to forget who was in charge. "Shepard, we need to get this data to the Illusive Man. Grab the quarian and call the shuttle to come pick us up."

"What?" Shepard nearly jumped at Tali's voice. The humans had been too engrossed to notice when she'd walked in behind them. "Veetor is already traumatized! He needs treatment, not an interrogation!"

"We won't hurt him. We just need to see if he knows anything else. He'll be returned unharmed." Jacob did his best to sound reassuring, but Miranda had to get her two cents in as well.

"Your people tried to betray us once already. If we give him to you, we'll never get the intel we need."

Tali shook her head. "Prazza was an idiot, and he and his men paid for it. You're welcome to take Veetor's omnitool data, but please." She directed her words at Shepard. "Just let me take him."

Any information Veetor had could be critical to deconstructing this new threat. However, Shepard considered the quarian, who was shifting his balance from foot to foot and polishing his hands together while he observed the goings-on. _Yeah._ Cerberus probably lacked the knowledge or the will to deal with Veetor gently, and given how the other quarians had reacted to the organization's presence, Shepard doubted that bringing Veetor into the belly of the beast would help his mental state.

"The quarians will know how to calm Veetor down. He goes with Tali." Shepard hoped Miranda would see the logic. "Tali, can you remove the security on Veetor's omnitool? It'll make it a lot easier for us to retrieve the data." Tali nodded and approached Veetor, who gave up his omnitool without protest. "Jacob, Miranda, can you go outside and bring the shuttle to the loading bay?"

Jacob gave an affirmative and headed for the door, omnitool activated. Miranda remained where she was until Shepard gave her a pointed stare. "Understood, Commander." Her voice had all the sweetness of thresher maw venom. Apparently, her disapproval would not be so simple to ease.

Tali watched Miranda leave before speaking. "Thank you, Shepard. I'm glad you're still the one giving the orders."

Was he, though? So far, Shepard had done exactly what the Illusive Man had asked him to. Finding the culprits behind the missing colonists was a benign victory, but now Shepard felt committed to continue down this path which Cerberus laid before him. If the Alliance and Council refused to deal with this problem, then…

No, Shepard still had a way out. The Alliance would act if Shepard brought them proof that a single entity, these 'Collectors', were responsible for the attacks. While the Council might not grant the Alliance official license to operate outside Council space, they had certainly seemed willing to turn a blind eye to the Alliance forces which kicked Saren's geth out of the Armstrong Nebula. And, while unlikely, the powers-that-be in the Terminus might permit an Alliance presence if it pursued a single, limited target. There had to be some bosses out there who had lost significant capital to the Collectors thanks to these kidnappings. Thinking about colonists as capital was unpleasant, but the Terminus operated on different rules than Alliance space.

"Shepard?"

* * *

Although Veetor's omnitool had only basic security measures, Tali was grateful to Shepard for clearing the room. The presence of Cerberus operatives would have made it difficult to focus. As she started her work, Shepard leaned against one of the machines lining the walls and folded his arms.

 _Just need to turn off the biometric lock…next the passcode lock…done._ Most quarians would maintain far better omnitool security, but Veetor was a unique case. His crippling anxiety did not prevent him from being a relatively skillful mining surveyor, so he'd been allowed on Pilgrimage under the assumption that he'd seek a low-risk Pilgrimage gift of survey data. His specific selection of a human colony had been in no small part thanks to the overwhelmingly positive report Tali had given on her service aboard a human ship. There were always going to be hard cases like Pressly and Williams, but their issue had been with non-humans in general, whereas the Council races (excluding humans) had had almost three centuries to ingrain the idea that quarians were good-for-nothings who got what they deserved for creating the geth. As for the batarians… well, anyone looking for tolerance among batarians was likely to be disappointed.

Somehow the geth always were a part of it. If the geth hadn't forced the quarians to live in such poverty, constantly bleeding resources through starship life, Veetor would never have needed to set out on his own. He would never have ended up in a situation like this: terrifying events and access to deadly machinery combining to result in unintentional fratricide. He could have been kept safe and out of the way in conditions designed to accommodate his needs, just like all the other species could. On the Flotilla, such a net negative devotion of resources could not be sustained. Hell, Veetor was one of the lucky ones. Quarian pregnancies, and even infants, who displayed problems which could not be corrected before adolescence using gene therapy or cybernetics, had to be terminated.

Tali forced herself to stop thinking about geth. Not an easy feat for any member of the Flotilla, she reckoned. Shepard was _back_ , and despite this new Cerberus development, he seemed wholly unchanged. Except for the glowing, maybe. Were human cybernetics supposed to do that? Quarian cybernetics aimed to be visually and tactilely seamless.

Tali took the omnitool from Veetor, who had thankfully calmed down at the presence of another quarian. "Shepard?"

Shepard's helmet twitched. Had he been thinking about something? The visor on his strange new armor set didn't show his face. "I'm done here. You shouldn't have any problem accessing Veetor's data."

"Did you sweep the omnitool for anything sensitive regarding the Flotilla?" Tali could have hugged him. She'd missed this feeling – the simple warmth of someone helping her. As an Admiral's daughter, and especially after her heroes' return from defeating Saren, Tali was expected to look out for the fleet. Auntie Raan did her best to look out for Tali, but she was an Admiral with her own duties to handle. At least she tried, unlike Rael. No amount of Admiralty business excused how much he avoided Tali.

"I'll check right now." As part of her mission briefing, she'd reviewed the snapshot of Veetor's omnitool from when the pilgrim had set out. It was standard procedure, helping to keep track of what information might be leaving the fleet. Veetor hadn't taken any high-risk content with him, but comparing the snapshot to the current state of his omnitool allowed Tali to quickly find and copy anything new. "It's clear. I hope you don't mind; I copied over some of Veetor's data for his pilgrimage gift, as well as what he found on the Collectors."

Shepard nodded. "That's fine. I'm glad he can get something good from all this." He looked towards the door of the warehouse. "I'm sorry about your team."

 _I'm sorry you died. I'm sorry the Council didn't listen._ "Yonna and I stabilized two of them. We'll need to get them back to the Flotilla before the autoimmune response gets too bad, but they should make it, at least."

"Good." He pushed off the wall and unfolded his arms. Tali passed him Veetor's omnitool. "There's a lot I was hoping to talk about, but you should get your people taken care of first." The roar of a shuttle's thrusters filtered in from outside. "I think that's my ride."

"Yes." Tali had so many questions she wanted to ask Shepard. Duty, however, would not loosen its hold. "Good luck out there."

"You too, Tali." Shepard pocketed the omnitool and gave her a small wave goodbye.

However, as he turned to leave the warehouse, an idea sprang unbidden into Tali's mind. Shepard felt compelled to work with Cerberus because the Council and Alliance didn't believe what he'd found about the Reapers. Tali, on the other hand, had encountered no such difficulties convincing the quarians that more of Sovereign's ilk were out there. Unfortunately, the Flotilla's response to the Reaper threat had gotten tangled up in geth politics – as so many issues in the fleet were wont to do – but it was better than no response at all. If Shepard came with her to the Flotilla, he could get away from Cerberus, and if he could convince the various factions to focus on the Reapers, the quarians might give him the resources to carry on his work until the Council and Alliance saw sense. The Flotilla might not be as wealthy and powerful as Cerberus, but – no, this was wishful thinking. Wasn't it?

"Shepard!" Shepard stopped and looked back.

"Yes?" Tali opened her mouth to speak, but with Shepard focusing his attention on her, her plan seemed very silly.

"I… um… we… should exchange extranet addresses so we can keep in touch. If I find anything else that can help you, I'll let you know."

"Oh, right. That's a good idea." Shepard brought up his omnitool, then paused. "Actually, I don't know if I have an extranet address anymore. Did they close my old one?"

"Here." Tali sent him a small text file. "That's my address. The unsecured one, I mean. I use a different one for Fleet communications. Just send me a message when you get yours figured out."

"Will do. Thanks, Tali." He walked out of the warehouse to the shuttle hovering just above the loading bay floor. Tali watched him sit down facing the Cerberus operatives before the door closed and the shuttle took off. Just like that, he was gone again.

Tali let out a heavy sigh. Instead of presenting her idea to Shepard, she had choked… but it was a stupid idea, based more on idle fancy than hard facts. Tali had two wounded quarians to bring home, and six bodies to police before they left. Quarians did not have the luxury of funeral rites, not anymore, so the bodies themselves would stay where they had fallen. However, any intact technology, supplies, and omni-tools needed to be recovered. After that, Tali would need to write a mission report, where she'd have to explain how over half of her team had gotten themselves killed, and contact the families of the dead… so many things to do, and most of them unpleasant.

Well, at least Shepard was alive again. That alone almost made up for everything else.


	5. Chapter 5

Shepard's first mission had gone exceedingly well. The culprit behind the abductions had been unmasked. A witness had revealed the kidnappers' likely M.O., and his account could be corroborated with data that Cerberus now possessed. Shepard appeared to be fully functional despite his premature awakening. He'd proven to be an effective instrument in the field, and further months of recovery and acclimatization to his cybernetics would make him an even greater force to be reckoned with. No Cerberus personnel had been injured or killed, and the quarians had only themselves to blame for those they'd lost. By any measure, this had been a major victory.

A pall of dread hung over Miranda regardless.

Shepard wasn't supposed to be conscious yet. Wilson's betrayal had upended the carefully laid plans surrounding the soldier's return to life. Dozens of tests, neurological milestones, and implant diagnostics, had gone up in flames with Lazarus Station.

Beyond these medical issues lay concerns about loyalty and trust. Only the proven could join Cerberus, and it was never an absolute thing. Access and authority within the organization scaled with an individual's scientific or military value, devotion to Cerberus' ideals, and ability to be discreet. Miranda represented the pinnacle of these traits, and even she was permitted only limited contact with the Illusive Man.

Shepard, however…

The soldier's value to humanity had never been up for debate, but everything Lazarus had found about Shepard seemed to confirm that he was an Alliance man, through and through. Add to that his willingness and ability to work with aliens which, while technically not against Cerberus doctrine (as some in Cerberus seemed to forget, the advancement and preservation of humanity was separate from racism), did make him less predictable. Miranda didn't know if Shepard would keep humanity's best interests at the forefront of his mind, and his decision regarding the quarian seemed to confirm her doubts.

Not that Miranda hadn't had faith in her ability to change Shepard's mind. She had designed a process for Shepard following many of the lines which had brought Jacob into the fold. The Council and Alliance brass, short-sighted fools that they were, had already laid the groundwork after Shepard had died over Alchera. When Shepard's resurrection had been completed, he would have awoken in a carefully monitored environment where he would discover, at his own pace, just how badly he'd been abandoned. Then, when the time was right, and Shepard had accepted that his former allies would not help him, Cerberus would make their pitch.

Now, thanks to Wilson, her planning would never bear fruit. Killing the traitor had been as cathartic as it had been necessary, but it couldn't undo what had been set in motion.

What unsettled Miranda even further was the Illusive Man's… _nonchalance_ … about this turn of events. Before communications from Lazarus Station had been cut off, Miranda had sent a message to the Illusive Man about the unfolding situation. His response had been lodged in her mind ever since.

 _Do not lose Shepard. Bring him to Minuteman Station. He and I have matters to discuss._

'Matters to discuss.' Like he was speaking to a trusted agent, or a friend. And what did 'matters to discuss' refer to? Miranda assumed that the Illusive Man intended to brief Shepard himself. Maybe he believed that a person-to-person interaction with the head of Cerberus would have a greater effect on the Commander. Regardless, Minuteman Station, the existence of the Illusive Man, his physical appearance, the sound of his voice – all were jealously guarded secrets, even within Cerberus. What made the Illusive Man so unconcerned about giving them up?

Did Shepard have a connection to Cerberus, or the Illusive Man, that Miranda didn't know about? Miranda's research (and her research was _thorough_ ) hadn't found any interactions between the two beyond Shepard's destruction of a low-priority cell not long after receiving SpecTRe status. Nothing during Shepard's Alliance service, no apparent links to his foster family, and while the records from the years he'd spent as an orphan were spotty, Miranda hadn't found anything beyond what was available in the public record. During Shepard's conversation with the Illusive Man, Miranda had been reviewing his file, trying to see if there was something she'd missed. She had once again found nothing.

Whether her suspicions were true or not, things seemed to be happening above Miranda's head, and it worried her. The lack of information itself wasn't new – Cerberus compartmentalization had gotten Miranda used to leaving some stones unturned – but as head of Lazarus cell she expected unfettered access to anything regarding Shepard. Lazarus cell was her domain, and therefore Shepard was her domain.

Or at least, it had been until Shepard had finished speaking with the Illusive Man. As the whine of the QEC machinery shutting down emanated from the stairwell leading to the communications room on Minuteman Station, Miranda and Jacob had both received messages on a secure Cerberus line. Another colony attack had occurred. They were going to Freedom's Progress. Shepard would be in charge.

Now, with the immediate mission objectives complete, Miranda's mind had time to agonize over these concerns again. As during the shuttle ride from Lazarus Station, the Commander sat across from the Cerberus operatives. He had been silent since they'd lifted off from Freedom's Progress, except for a terse 'here' when he'd handed Miranda the quarian's omni tool.

Miranda rolled the device between her fingers. Why had Shepard sent her and Jacob out of the building before speaking with his former teammate? Simple privacy? Or had he asked the female quarian to tamper with the omni tool? They hadn't spent much time alone, but files indicated that this Tali'Zorah was an extremely adept hacker. Could she have planted malware which would infect Cerberus systems when the data on the Collectors was transferred? The files would need to be isolated and cleaned before being allowed anywhere vital.

This dissonance was rapidly becoming a headache. Miranda was no stranger to working with people whose goals did not align with Cerberus', but this was the first time one of those people had been allowed so near the Illusive Man, and imbued with his authority. While Lazarus cell had always been intended to fall under Shepard's command, Miranda had expected a different Shepard. A Shepard who had joined willingly, who had been properly vetted, and who would view Cerberus as an opportunity, not an enemy.

Miranda desperately wanted to know what the Illusive Man had said to Shepard to make him so… compliant. A conversation lasting a few minutes had accomplished what Lazarus cell envisioned would take weeks, if not months. So far as Miranda could tell, Shepard hadn't changed in his behavior – still hostile to Cerberus, still friendly to aliens – but he was cooperating. He hadn't tried to run, and he hadn't tried to kill her or Jacob, or to get them killed. Quite the opposite, in fact. He hadn't even donned the N7 armor Lazarus cell had procured as part of an effort to make him feel comfortable.

Then again, the man had only been awake for several hours. Maybe he was just biding his time.

"Miranda." Her gaze rose from the omni tool in her hand to Shepard. "You alright?"

She wasn't, but Shepard hardly needed her to bring up the issue of how unlikely his cooperation with Cerberus was. "I'm considering the ramifications of the Collectors being responsible for the missing colonists." It was what she ought to be focused on right now, Miranda told herself. Cerberus finally had a concrete target after months spent in the dark.

"What else do you know about Collectors?" Right, Shepard hadn't spent much time in Terminus space. That said, the very existence of the reclusive species had required great effort to confirm.

"Unfortunately, our knowledge of the Collectors doesn't extend far beyond what you heard on Freedom's Progress. Their only recorded interactions with another species are transactional. Most of the time, they trade advanced cybernetics and biotechnology for limited numbers of sentient lifeforms."

"Slaves."

The Commander's tone made clear what he thought of the institution. A foothold that Miranda could use to establish a connection later? "Much of the time. The Collectors don't appear to be picky about where their payment comes from."

"Is there any sort of pattern in what the Collectors ask for?"

"The numbers of slaves per transaction is kept small, but they've never shown a preference for one species over another. The abduction of such large numbers of purely human colonists represents a significant departure from their usual habits, so far as we understand them." Now that Cerberus knew where to focus their efforts, Miranda hoped that she would soon be learning a lot more about the Collectors' habits.

Shepard's head tilted back and his right leg began to bounce. Miranda had seen the same motor tics present themselves in footage of Shepard's various interviews, whenever he was asked a difficult question. "When did the colonies start disappearing?"

"Not long after you died."

"And not long after Sovereign was destroyed." So, the Commander was trying to figure out the connection to the Reapers. The Illusive Man had never been forthright about the source of his ironclad belief in a greater Reaper threat, but if he believed, then Miranda believed.

Several seconds passed in silence. Miranda began to wonder if she should continue the conversation, as much as she'd prefer not to. Jacob said that talking built trust and unit cohesion, and her job would be much easier if Shepard trusted her.

Thankfully, Jacob decided to engage first. "There's a lot we don't know, but if there's someone who can figure it out, it's the Illusive Man."

"We could also try the Shadow Broker." Miranda tensed. The Illusive Man had expressly forbidden anyone in Cerberus to inform Shepard of the events surrounding his body's recovery.

Once again, Jacob came to the rescue. "Already tried. Broker didn't have much more than we did."

"That's a shame." Miranda internally breathed a sigh of relief. Jacob had told Miranda on many occasions how much he hated lying, but she had to admit, when he lied, it was seamless. He allowed some time to pass before asking Shepard a new question.

"Shepard, you mind if I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Back when you became the first human SpecTRe, there was a lot of excitement in the Alliance ranks about you selecting guys to help you take down Saren. With all the brass riled up about Eden Prime, you probably could've gotten a full N7 team if you'd asked, but instead you picked…"

"Aliens?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'totally unknown quantities'." Miranda's curiosity had been roused, though she was comfortable to let Jacob do the talking. Being a 'people person' took him less effort. "I mean, Officer Vakarian was the only one with formal military training, and he'd been a cop for a few years when you found him. And then you had him, a turian, on the same ship as a krogan mercenary. Add to that the quarian and the asari… there were a lot of people theorizing that it was some kind of PR stunt."

Miranda was concerned that the implied question would antagonize Shepard, but such fears appeared unfounded as the Commander slouched, considering his answer.

"They asked to join me." Jacob's eyebrows rose slightly as he waited for Shepard to elaborate. "I wouldn't have kept them on if I didn't think they could contribute to the mission. However, I'd only just received command of the Normandy, so I didn't have a lot of concrete goals except for hunting down Saren. Garrus and Wrex shared that goal, and Tali… it didn't feel right to leave her where Saren's assassins could find her. Plus, her expertise with the geth made her an asset both on and off the battlefield. Liara helped us figure out exactly what Saren was after, and what Sovereign really was. Without her knowledge, I might never have been able to make sense of the vision from the Prothean beacon. I wasn't planning to bring the doctor along for missions, but..." Shepard chuckled, remembering something, "There were certain people on the Normandy who leapt at the opportunity to spend time with Liara – showing her how to fight, of course." At that, Jacob stifled a laugh of his own. "It helped that Liara had a lot of raw biotic talent. Maybe she got it from her mother."

"Matriarch Benezia, right?"

Shepard nodded wistfully. "Yeah. That was an intense fight. If she hadn't been fighting her indoctrination so desperately, she probably would've killed us all."

"That can't have been easy for Dr. T'soni."

"It wasn't." Shepard sighed. "She chose to be there anyway, and she tried to prepare herself for the possibility. I wish it could've turned out differently."

Jacob let a few seconds pass before pressing on. "Still, she stuck with you through all of that. And so did the rest of the team. I read about how you even convinced Urdnot Wrex to help you destroy Saren's genophage cure, on Virmire."

Shepard waved a hand dismissively. "Wrex is smarter than he lets on. I think he knew the whole time that Saren wasn't serious about helping the krogan. He just needed to see that we understood it too, and that we weren't just trying to spite the krogan."

"He pointed a gun at you, though." Jacob leaned forward now, engrossed in the story. "You were ok with that?"

"I didn't mention that in my report. Where'd you get it from, the STG?" The answer was yes, but Miranda didn't feel like discussing the reach of Cerberus' information network with Shepard. "Well, whatever. The STG probably reads all our stuff as well. Jesus, they might have my entire extranet browsing history."

That got a laugh out of Jacob, while Miranda fought the urge to roll her eyes. Men. As a matter of fact, Lazarus cell had had access to nearly all of Shepard's extranet activities, but certain parts had been considered more worthy of Miranda's attention than others. She'd delegated the… less polite… sections to lower level analysts, satisfying herself with their confirmation that Shepard had no proclivities which violated laws or societal norms.

Shepard continued his answer. "I can't say I was 'ok' with having a shotgun pointed at me, but he stood with us in the end. If he'd intended to stop us from destroying the facility, he would have brought his barriers up first."

"I'm guessing this behavior was unusual for him?"

"Yeah. Wrex was a professional, and once you got past his rudeness he had a lot to talk about. He seemed to warm up to everyone once it became clear that we didn't see him just as hired muscle. If anyone was going to start shit, it was Garrus."

Jacob cocked an eyebrow. "Garrus?"

Shepard nodded. "He could be a real dick sometimes. I'm not sure where it came from – turian education maybe? – but he would pester Wrex and Tali with these really tone-deaf questions. Wrex actually handled it better than Tali; he'd probably encountered worse in his years as a merc. Tali would get so mad that she'd refuse to be in the same room as him. One time, Chief Adams overheard her plotting to hack Garrus' visor."

Jacob's voice filled with amusement. "I'm guessing it got better?"

"Eventually. He lived and fought alongside them, so he started to make his own judgments instead of parroting whatever he'd heard about their species."

"You make it sound like they worked out all of their problems by themselves."

Shepard hummed thoughtfully. "I stepped in whenever I thought I could help, but I doubt I would've gotten anywhere if they hadn't had a shared goal, and a certain… curiosity? That's not the word I'm looking for." He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "The mission kept them together at first. After some time, they were willing to go beyond basic unit cohesion – reaching out, learning more about each other. That included Ash and Liara; At first, Ash wasn't too keen on having aliens aboard an Alliance vessel, and Liara was reclusive in general, but they didn't let that stop them from making connections."

"Did you trust them?" _Ah, I see what Jacob is trying to show me._ Jacob had always been perceptive of Miranda's mood. "I mean, it sounds like they were a good crew, but Wrex was a mercenary, and Liara was Matriarch Benezia's daughter. Also, quarians are supposed to put their fleet above all else. You ever worry that their loyalty was all a ruse?"

Shepard slowly tilted his head side to side. "I try not to trust anyone unconditionally… though I did begin to feel like I could be a lot less guarded around them. They proved their ability and dedication, so I wasn't about to go digging for reasons to kick them off the Normandy."

"So, give them the benefit of the doubt until they lose it?"

"I guess?" Shepard folded his arms and exhaled. "I try to leave intrigue to people who like that sort of thing. Besides, there was a decent number of people in Alliance command who wanted all aliens off the ship, and they had months to find a good reason. Couldn't come up with squat."

While Jacob and Shepard swapped stories about unpleasant Alliance officers they'd run into, Miranda considered the information that Jacob had drawn out. She doubted that Shepard would be as charitable to Cerberus as he'd been to his alien friends, and she still planned to watch him like a hawk (in this, her orders and personal goals aligned). However, Miranda now had a potential framework to form a working relationship with the Commander. If the Illusive Man's plans hadn't changed, Miranda would need such a relationship to survive the coming months. Shepard might never fully trust Cerberus, but so long as their cooperation continued, Cerberus wouldn't need him to.

* * *

"Shepard. Good work on Freedom's Progress." Though his face was devoid of emotion, the Illusive Man allowed a pleased tone to enter his voice. "The data from the quarian's omni tool is being analyzed as we speak. It's surprising that you were able to gain their cooperation, given their history with Cerberus. You and I may have different methods, but I can't argue with your results."

Hearing the Illusive Man's twisted version of events would probably be more frustrating than informative, so Shepard set his curiosity aside. "You ever think about playing nice once in a while?"

"Diplomacy is great when it works, but difficult when everyone already perceives you as a threat. But more importantly, you confirmed the Collectors are behind the abductions."

Confirmed? "It sounds like you knew about them already."

"I had my suspicions, but I needed proof. The Collectors are enigmatic at best." The glass of bourbon had disappeared since their last meeting, but a fresh cigarette glowed in the Illusive Man's right hand. "They periodically travel to the Terminus systems, looking to gather seemingly unimportant items or specimens. Usually in exchange for their technology. When their transactions are complete, they disappear as quickly as they arrived, back beyond the unmapped Omega 4 relay. Until now, we've had no evidence of direct aggression by the Collectors."

"Why is the Omega 4 relay unmapped? What do we know about it?"

"Only that no ship passing through it has ever returned."

"Aside from the Collectors, you mean."

The Illusive Man inclined his head. "Our best guess is that the relay reacts differently to Collector vessels, allowing them safe passage. If they can manipulate relays, that's just further evidence of the connection with the Reapers."

"I see." The pieces began to fall into place. "Even if they don't work for the Reapers, the ability to control a relay deserves investigation."

"Precisely. You understand, better than most, how important it is that humanity seek every advantage it can. I won't wait until the Reapers are on the march. We need to take the fight to them."

It was immensely gratifying to hear such an unconditional pledge to face the Reaper threat. It could also be viewed as a justification for Cerberus' crimes. "Not that I'm complaining, but why do you believe in the Reapers when no one else seems willing to?"

"The patterns are there, Shepard. Buried in the data. The Council and the Alliance want to believe that the threat died with Sovereign. You and I know better."

"Do we?" Vague answers wouldn't cut it anymore. On one hand, the mission to Freedom's Progress had convinced Shepard that dangerous forces, Reaper or otherwise, were at play in this galaxy he'd woken up to. However, as the Illusive Man had confirmed, Cerberus hadn't changed their M.O., nor did they plan to. If Shepard committed to this path, if he crossed that line, would he ever be able to go back? "Illusive Man, I'm making a decision which could destroy my connections to the Alliance and Council. You might be used to going it alone, but I don't burn bridges without a damn good reason. If I'm going to work with Cerberus, I want to know, specifically, why _you_ believe the Reapers are out there."

The Illusive Man stared unblinkingly at Shepard as he drew from his cigarette, then exhaled. "Eden Prime was not the first time that humanity encountered the Reapers, Shepard."

As confusion spread across Shepard's face, the Illusive Man continued. "In fact, multiple species have found Reaper technology over the course of history, technology which can't be passed off as Prothean creations as the mass relays and Citadel are. What you learned during your fight against Saren connected these previously independent events, but only for those who were willing to look."

Shepard could feel his anger rising again. "How could they ignore all this evidence? It sounds like they have all the pieces they need to put it together, and Vigil was fairly explicit about the cycle of extinction."

"The Council's team to Ilos got caught up in bureaucracy due to the planet's location in the Terminus systems. By the time they reached the facility and cleared out the remaining geth, the Prothean VI had shut down due to power loss, or damage from the battle."

 _Typical._ "What about the footage from my helmet cam?"

"Without Vigil to corroborate your conversation, or its own status as a Prothean construct, the Council could dismiss your proof as misinformation from Saren. Not everyone holds the 'official position', but fear of political reprisal ensures that the majority toe the line." The Illusive Man held out his hands in a welcoming gesture. "Shepard, Cerberus is your best chance – perhaps your only chance – to stand against the Reapers. Finding our missing colonists and exposing the Collectors may bring you the evidence you need to convince the galaxy of the Reaper threat. You need the resources and autonomy Cerberus can offer, and we need someone who understands what's at stake. Of course," he tipped his cigarette towards Shepard, "the choice is yours to make."

The Illusive Man had him. Shepard couldn't waste time on politicians while these Collectors abducted entire colonies. "Alright. Where do we begin?"

"The data you recovered from Freedom's Progress is an important step forward, but we still know very little about the Collectors. We need to learn more, and prepare for every contingency." Several holographic displays appeared around the Illusive Man's chair. "I've compiled a list of soldiers, scientists, and mercenaries. You'll get dossiers on the best of them. Finding them and convincing them to work with you could be challenging, but you're a natural leader. I'll continue to track the Collectors. When they make their next appearance, I'll notify you and your team."

 _Your team._ The Illusive Man made it sound like Shepard would have a great degree of autonomy. Perhaps it was time to test his limits. "Is my team from the Normandy on that list? They helped me stop Saren and the geth. This is their fight as much as anyone's." Shepard desperately wanted people he could trust, though as he said the words, doubt began to flicker in his mind. His encounter with Tali had shown that reclaiming his old life might not be as easy as he'd hoped.

Thus, the Illusive Man's response was predictable. "That was two years ago, Commander. Most of them have moved on… or their allegiances have changed."

"Doesn't matter. I want to know what they're doing now. At minimum, they deserve to know that I'm alive." If Tali hadn't already told them. "Tali already helped us on Freedom's Progress."

"That was unexpected. I need more intel before I'll commit to that."

Once again, Shepard found himself suppressing his questions about Cerberus' interactions with the quarians. Who knew what Cerberus had gotten up to over the past two years? Would Wrex, Garrus, Liara, or Kaidan be willing to overlook the organization's history, and if they agreed to join Shepard's team, what price might they pay for their complicity with a terrorist organization? Perhaps it would be better to reestablish himself first, figure out how involved Cerberus would be, and learn more about his team members' situations, before he dragged them into another risky mission.

"Okay, I get it. There are too many unknowns to bring them in right now. That said, I want to hear how they're doing."

The Illusive Man tapped the ash from his cigarette before answering. "Kaidan Alenko is still with the Alliance. Promoted, I believe. Urdnot Wrex returned to Tuchanka and hasn't gone off-world in over a year. He's currently trying to unite the krogan clans. Dr. T'Soni is on Illium, working as an information broker. However, we haven't been able to locate the turian, Garrus Vakarian. He disappeared a few months after you were declared dead."

That last part caught Shepard's attention. "Disappeared? Under what circumstances?"

"Unknown. Our records show that he temporarily returned to C-Sec after the Normandy was destroyed. One day, the trail disappears. Nothing we've found indicates that foul play was involved; it's more likely that he's chosen to lay low."

Garrus had never been afraid to make his opinions about C-Sec clear, so the fact that he'd left C-Sec wasn't a surprise. But to vanish outright? No mean feat in a galaxy where walking down the street left several dozen electronic records. Maybe he'd gone undercover to hunt down another criminal outside C-Sec's reach, as he'd hunted Dr. Saleon? Or did it have something to do with the Council cover-up of the Reapers? Garrus had always been impatient, especially when politics were involved.

Shepard stopped his imagination from running wild. Reconnecting with his crew might provide clues as to where Garrus had gone. Maybe the Shadow Broker would sell him something useful; the mysterious entity had seemed happy enough to help bring down Saren. Also, if Liara had become an information broker, her help might serve as well, though it was a bit odd to think of the quiet academic taking up such a profession. Information brokers dealt with a lot of people, something which Liara had emphasized was outside her comfort zone. At least she, Kaiden, and Wrex seemed to be doing well.

"I'd like to get in contact with them, and I'm willing to use whatever means you deem necessary to preserve Cerberus security." In truth, Shepard didn't give a damn about Cerberus security. However, given that he was stuck working with them for the foreseeable future, he'd have to suck up his visceral dislike for the organization and focus on their shared goal. "However, I understand that my top priority is the Collectors, and finding people to fight them. Send me the dossiers. When you find actionable intel, my team will be ready."

"Good." The Illusive Man exhaled a cloud of cigarette smoke. "Two things before you go. First, head to Omega and find Mordin Solus. He's a brilliant salarian scientist. Our intelligence suggests he may know how to counteract the Collectors paralyzing seeker swarms."

 _Omega._ What Shepard knew about the place made it sound like a miserable shithole, unless you had too much firepower and not enough morality. Hopefully this scientist wouldn't be some sick bastard who'd fled to the Terminus to avoid ethical oversight. "Sounds like a plan. What's the second thing?"

The barest hint of a smile crooked the Illusive Man's mouth. "I've found a pilot I think you might like. I hear he's one of the best. Someone you can trust."

* * *

Joker hobbled towards the QEC room, ignoring the pain which grated up his legs at each step. As he passed by, Jacob gave him a smile and a nod. Normally Joker would return the same – Jacob seemed to be a nice guy, at least, nothing like Ms. Mannequin with her humorless superiority complex – but Joker had serious issues on his mind. If Shepard punched him, how many bones might he break?

Not that Vrolik Syndrome made Joker any less deserving of a good punch. Or two. Shepard had returned from the dead, which was great and all, except for the guy who'd put him in the ground in the first place. The shrinks could try and spin it all they liked. Joker had gotten Shepard killed, and everyone from the original Normandy knew it, even if they'd been too polite to say it. He'd seen their faces when he'd stepped out of his escape pod alone. After he'd described what had happened, none of them had been willing to meet his gaze. It had been a relief to get off the rescue boat, away from their silent judgment.

Now, here he was, about to find out how Shepard felt about it all. Assuming this was the real Shepard, of course. When Cerberus had first contacted him, claiming that they wanted him to pilot for a resurrected Shepard, Joker had blown them off as either delusional or terrible liars. Then, Dr. Chakwas of all people had approached him, and while he didn't understand a lot of the medical jargon she'd thrown his way, he did manage to get the gist of it: this Shepard would probably be the real deal.

As Joker reached the top of the staircase leading to the QEC room, he could hear a familiar voice drifting out. Now, Joker didn't consider himself a guy with much emotional depth – _leave that to Staff Lt. McDreamy_ – but at that moment he had to take a breath to steady himself. Maybe it would have been better to hide on the ship and let Dr. Chakwas put Shepard in a good mood before showing his face. Of course, that would mean that he'd made this hellishly uncomfortable trek for nothing.

"…my team will be ready." Sounded like the conversation was wrapping up. If he planned to limp awkwardly away, now was his last chance. Instead, he squared his shoulders and marched resolutely to the bottom of the staircase (ok, more like he uncurled his usual hunched pose a little and carefully edged from step to step, but it was thought that counted, right?). He could see Shepard's silhouette through the QEC's holographic interface. The armor was new – that wasn't a medical exoskeleton, was it? Chakwas said that the easy part of Cerberus' job was repairing Shepard's body, so hopefully they hadn't screwed that up. Shepard needed to be able to run and jump and shoot and do all that hero stuff, especially if the Illusive Man was right about the Reapers being on the move.

"Sounds like a plan. What's the second thing?"

What should he say to a guy who'd come back from the grave?

The QEC shut off and the holographic interface began to wind down.

"Hey Commander."

Shepard's head whipped around at his voice. The red lights in his face were… weird… but that certainly seemed to be him. Shepard's eyes widened in recognition.

"Just like old times huh?"

After a moment, the corner of Shepard's mouth quirked up, and Joker felt the tension leaving him. Maybe this wasn't going to be so bad.

* * *

"I can't believe it's you, Joker. Here I was, beginning to think that Cerberus had some self-respect."

"Oh, you know how it is, Commander. Once they brought you on board, the bar was so low that anyone could stroll on in."

"Ooh." Shepard clapped a hand over his heart and pretended to swoon before pointing accusingly at Joker. "You should thank me, Joker. You might've needed to do some real work otherwise."

Joker scoffed while Shepard stifled his laughter. It felt good to let his guard down, if only for a moment. Though the Illusive Man might be Joker's employer now, Shepard doubted that the snarky pilot felt anything but scorn for the likes of Cerberus and Terra Firma. Human supremacy arguments did not impress a man who had proven his worth despite his body, rather than because of it.

The fact that Joker was here, braving his Vrolik Syndrome to walk with Shepard, told him what he needed to know about the state of their friendship. A more emotional discussion of the past two years could come later – maybe alongside a discussion about proper evacuation protocols – but Shepard didn't see any immediate need to spoil the good mood. For now, jokes and jibes would do. "So how'd you from daring flyboy to diabolical Cerberus operative?"

Joker snorted and shook his head. "It all fell apart without you, Commander." He plodded resolutely up a set of steps. Whatever this surprise was that Joker had mentioned earlier, it had the fragile man moving with purpose. "Everything you stirred up, the Council just wanted it gone."

"So I've heard." The fact was beginning to lose its sting.

"Team was broken up, records sealed, and I was grounded." He threw Shepard a look of exasperation over his shoulder. "The Alliance took away the only thing that mattered to me. Hell yeah I joined Cerberus."

Large observation windows lined one side of the room they'd entered, but the space on the other side was dark. "You think we can trust the Illusive Man?"

"I don't trust anyone who makes more than I do. But they aren't all bad. Saved your life. Let me fly…" Joker broke into a grin, staring into the cavernous gloom. "And there's this."

Through the windows, floodlights began to illuminate an enormous hangar bay. In the spots touched by their beams, Shepard could make out a flash of black and white plating, a curving, tapered fuselage, the silhouette of four antiproton thrusters.

 _No way… that can't be…_

Joker folded his arms and nodded, as if he'd heard Shepard's thoughts. "They only told me last night."

A final set of floodlights switched on, revealing the ship in all its sleek, shining glory.

 _The Normandy..._

 _No, not quite._ Shepard walked as far as he could down the row of windows, drinking in sights both foreign and familiar. This ship seemed larger, its fuselage longer, and the T-tail at the back of the fuselage had been replaced with two vertical stabilizers. All four antiproton thrusters now had both aft and forward exhausts. These were mounted upon a pair of rigid, triangular stub wings instead of swinging pylons. When Shepard looked closely, he could make out various tracks and grooves which revealed that each thruster retained a certain degree of flexibility in both position and angle relative to the ship's centerline.

Despite these changes, the ship had clearly drawn most of its design elements from the Normandy. Even the letters stamped on the ship confirmed it: 'SR2'. The paint scheme was nearly identical as well, except for where the SR-1 had a stripe of red, Cerberus had chosen to use a stripe of yellow. A seemingly minor difference, unless you'd spent enough time around Cerberus paraphernalia to figure out what the organization's favorite colors were. Clearly, the Illusive Man wished to assert the vessel's allegiance.

"So, Commander." Joker sounded very pleased with himself as Shepard returned to his side. "We need to give her name."

 _Normandy_ was the obvious choice; hell, the ship's fuselage had the exact same sections of black ready for the white letters to be painted on. Nonetheless, Shepard hesitated, feeling the same reluctance which had prevented him from donning the N7 armor he'd been offered. This wasn't the same ship, it probably wouldn't have the same people on it, and while Shepard might be in command, he had no illusions about who this whole venture belonged to. Maybe leaving the ship as the SR-2 would be more appropriate. Those in the know would understand the reference, and to anyone else, it would simply be an alphanumeric code, unlikely to draw undue attention.

Looking at Joker's eager face, however, Shepard didn't feel like voicing these opinions. Maybe he'd let Joker decide. "You've got some ideas, I bet?"

"Oh, absolutely. I was having trouble deciding between 'Joker's Love Bus' and the 'Moreau Effect'." He rolled his eyes. "C'mon Shepard, you know what name this girl deserves."

"Is it still available?"

"Of course! Just say the word." Joker's enthusiasm, unaffected by his usual cynicism, was infectious.

Eh, what the hell. "The word."

The pilot's brow wrinkled in confusion for a moment, then his expression morphed into mock outrage. "Wow, way to ruin the moment Commander. Good thing Kaidan isn't here to clout you over the helmet for that joke."

"You're the one who set yourself up for it," retorted Shepard, wagging his finger. "I assume we need to talk to someone about this?"

"Nope." Joker pointed into the hangar bay, where a large armature was extending down from the shadowed ceiling. The tip poised over the newly-christened ship's hull for a split second before paint began to spray out in a neat line. The letter 'N' began to appear.

Joker leaned in conspiratorially, and said in a stage whisper, "Maybe it's just me Commander, but I think Cerberus _might_ be keeping an eye on us."

 _Of course they are_. Now that Joker had reminded him, Shepard realized that this ship was probably bugged from stem to stern. His own body could have monitoring devices planted in it, for good measure. Cerberus had rebuilt both from the ground up, so bugs could be integrated in areas which made their detection and removal nigh impossible.

Still, it wasn't like the Alliance didn't surveil the insides of their warships. And judging by what Shepard had seen so far, Cerberus didn't need him slipping up to acquire Alliance secrets. If the Illusive Man wanted to keep an eye on his investments, fine. So long as he held up his end of their implicit bargain, Shepard would hold up his.

"C'mon," said Joker, "The crew's already on board."

* * *

Shepard eschewed ornament and ceremony, yet even he was surprised by the sparse greeting he and Joker received as they stepped through the airlock.

On the Normandy SR-1, there hadn't been time for proper detachment and relief, but Pressly had nevertheless gathered the crew onto the command deck to salute their new commanding officer. It had given Shepard the chance to see his crew as a whole, to have a full accounting of the lives which had become his responsibility.

It seemed that there would be no such gathering for the launch of the SR-2. Miranda and Jacob were waiting by the CIC, and a few crewmembers manned consoles lining the edges of the command deck; that was it.

Joker broke off to assume his seat in the cockpit, which left Shepard to join the Cerberus operatives. As he walked down the gangway, he once again took in the similarities and differences with the original Normandy. The overall shape and structure had been preserved, but the deck was more spacious than before, and better lit. Every station had elbow room now, whereas before, an 'all hands on deck' situation resulted in a shoulder-to-shoulder scrum.

However, for all the additional space, there didn't seem to be a corresponding increase in personnel. Unless they were hiding in a different area, the number of people present did not even qualify as a skeleton crew. Perhaps the Illusive Man had understated the team-building task he'd given Shepard.

As Shepard passed by, some of the crew looked up from their consoles, but Jacob was the only one to stand at attention and salute. Shepard returned the salute, reminding himself that this vessel was not military; he'd either have to learn Cerberus protocols for day-to-day operations, or, seeing how much leeway he'd been given, come up with his own.

Neither option was particularly appealing. Every soldier hated it when someone higher up the chain of command started pulling rank and throwing the book around. Still, many of the mundane policies which made a boot's life a nightmare helped prevent organizational problems, or when problems could not be avoided, created an organized structure for assigning responsibility and/or blame. In Alliance training, instructors ran troops through exercises, first without a rulebook, then with one. Even though the effectiveness of the unit might not change, the members of the unit would consistently feel more comfortable about the outcomes and experiences when they had a framework to put everything into. That sense of cohesion was critical for starship life; if not handled properly, minor stress, grievances, and conflicts had a way of fermenting in such an enclosed space.

 _Too much thought._ For now, Shepard would get the lay of the land.

"Welcome aboard the new Normandy, Commander." Jacob assumed the parade rest position. His smile hinted at the same enthusiasm which thrummed in Shepard's chest, despite the responsibilities and problems that kept crossing his mind.

"I've been looking over the dossiers," said Miranda, wasting no time. "I'd strongly recommend starting by acquiring Mordin Solus, the salarian professor on Omega." She'd changed back into her catsuit, and propped one hand upon a shapely hip as she spoke. "We know the Collectors use some type of advanced technology to immobilize their victims. We'll need him to develop a countermeasure to protect us."

Though her words said 'advice', her tone said 'orders'. Shepard wasn't in the mood to get into a pissing contest, however, and the plan was sound. He kept in mind that, until a few hours ago, Miranda had been the queen of her kingdom. "Agreed. Hopefully, the data Veetor acquired will be enough for us to formulate something. We can't engage the Collectors otherwise."

A new voice emanated from above, female but synthesized. "Acquiring Professor Solus seems like the most logical place to start."

"Who are you?"

A hidden projector on the CIC beeped and a blue hologram sprang into existence. It looked like an old water tower from back on Earth, with a small ring around the column. Blue lights flickered on the surface of the orb, displaying the waveforms of speech. "I am the Normandy's artificial intelligence. The crew like to refer to me as EDI."

"An AI?" Cerberus was just full of surprises, wasn't it? "Fully sentient?"

"Yes. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Shepard."

"Er… the pleasure's all mine?" Shepard had never understood the Council's extreme prejudice against AIs, but having one incorporated into a warship did raise some concerns. "What's your role aboard the ship?"

"During combat, I operate the electronic warfare and cyberwarfare suites. Beyond that, I cannot interface with the ship's systems. I am permitted to observe and offer analysis and advice. Nothing more.

"That's a pretty narrow range of tasks to warrant an AI, isn't it?"

EDI beeped and her 'mouth' turned red. "Due to the potential dangers of a rogue AI, Cerberus has severely restricted my capabilities. Some of my databases are sealed. Some of my hardware is kept offline. I assume that when certain unknown conditions are met, those functions will be released to me."

The statement raised more questions than it answered. "Either of you care to elaborate?" asked Shepard, looking between Jacob and Miranda.

Jacob rubbed the back of his head. "Actually, we don't know either. EDI was created in a different cell. This is only our second time meeting it."

Fantastic. Now Shepard would spend the next few days worrying that the Illusive Man could order EDI to space everyone on the ship. "Well, EDI, I look forward to working with you."

"Logging you out, Shepard." Her avatar vanished back into the projector.

It occurred to Shepard that, so long as you were aboard the Normandy, you never really ended a conversation with EDI. Whereas organics could handle only one conversation at a time, EDI's audio sensors were likely running 24/7 throughout the ship. Goodbye, privacy. "Does the Normandy have a full complement? It feels a little… empty."

"Due to automation, the Normandy SR-2 does not require a crew as large as its predecessor's," answered Miranda. "Redundant staff were eliminated. All crewmembers are currently at their stations awaiting your orders."

Automation was all well and good, but the point of 'redundant' staff on a combat vessel was to preserve functionality if computer systems took damage or personnel suffered losses. Though the Normandy's role as a stealth frigate kept it away from battles of attrition, it still seemed an unnecessary risk.

Before he could voice this concern, Jacob supplied an explanation. "We're starting out with the bare minimum. If it turns out that we could use more crewmembers, the Illusive Man will find us the right people. Keep in mind, it's time-consuming to find qualified individuals who are willing to work for Cerberus, and know how to keep it under wraps."

It didn't solve the problem, but Shepard could accept that for now.

Joker's voice came over the ship's loudspeakers. "Final preparations for takeoff are complete, Commander. You ready to go?"

Was he? He was.

"You know it, Joker. Set course for the Omega Nebula."

"All right, time to put this baby through her paces!" They were skipping several protocols which usually preceded mass relay transit, but Joker deserved to have a bit of fun.

"So," said Shepard, turning back to Jacob and Miranda. "Time to meet the crew."


End file.
